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PSYCHO PUNKS
DOLLS AND DOUCHEBAGS PART FIVE

MADELINE FAY
Copyright @ March 14, 2024 Madeline Fay
Psycho Punks

(Dolls and Douchebags part five)

First publication:
Cover design by: PC Designs
Editing by: Lunar Rose Editing Services
Proofreading by: Lunar Rose Editing Services

All rights reserved. Except for use in any review, the reproduction or utilization of this work, in whole or in part, in any form by any electronic, mechanical,
or other means now known or hereafter invented, is forbidden without the written permission of the publisher.
Published by Madeline Fay

The unauthorized reproduction or distribution of a copyrighted work is illegal. Criminal copyright infringement, including infringement without monetary
gain, is investigated by the FBI and is punishable by fines and federal imprisonment.
Please purchase only authorized electronic editions and do not participate in or encourage the electronic piracy of copyrighted materials. Your support of
the author’s rights is appreciated.
This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, brands, and incidents are the products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any
resemblance to actual events, locales, or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.
 CONTENTS
Prologue
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Epilogue
Acknowledgments
Stalking links for Madeline Fay
About Madeline Fay
To all the girlies in their dark romance era… this book is for you.
Look down.

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Good Girl.
 Jin

T o be a smart man in business, you should always test whatever you're selling to make sure the quality is good. I’m not a
stupid man though. I don’t taste my product until someone else under my command does first. Every smart medieval
king in the Renaissance had a taste tester to make sure his food was never poisoned. If his servant didn’t drop dead,
then he could fill his stomach with all the riches. I’m going to make sure I’ll never go hungry, that my plate will overflow, and
I’ll throw the scraps to those beneath me.
Take that lowlife piece of shit, Cruz for instance. I let him into my circle, gave him a little power and he’s eating right out
of the palm of my hand. He came onto my turf, the city that’s always been mine, just for a whore. He’s at my disposal though. I
set him up on my yacht, let him lay his head down on expensive feather pillows at night, but he doesn’t know that the yacht he’s
using is the same one I use to ship out my girls across the ocean. He’s nothing special. Thousands of girls trafficked slept on the
same yacht he does, not knowing they would wake up in another country sold to another man. Cruz is just another pawn for me
to control then destroy when I feel the time is right. So yes, I’ll let him stay on my multimillion dollar yacht, have the best
bedding and service at his waiting hand and feet because he’s going to get to torture that whore who’s taking over my son’s life.
When the time is right, I’ll wipe it all away and have it cleaned for the next person on my chessboard.
“Sir.” A throat clears at my open door, interrupting as I watch one of the new girls deeply inhale the line of pure white
powder through her nose on the surface of my desk.
I draw my gaze away, groping her naked breast as she sways on her haunches near my feet as the drug takes effect. It works
fast once it hits the bloodstream, leaving euphoria and bliss in its wake.
“Come,” I command one of my triads in as he stands in the doorway, unsure since I don’t always take business inside my
house, but my fucking warehouse burned down and I’m not at the downtown China office today. His duty usually is to follow
my daughter around discreetly, so there can only be one reason why he’s here: “What has she done now?”
I watch him tug at his necktie, gulping loudly as he bows and steps into my office. In the last few days, I’ve been getting this
reaction from all of my triads. Everyone is walking on eggshells around me since Dom’s gang ruined my auction and burned my
business to the ground. My fist slams down on the surface of my desk, making the girl at my feet yelp as she falls down on her
naked ass. Every time I clear my head, thinking of anything else, the reminder that someone dared to embarrass me comes back
swiftly, like a tsunami. Anger and destruction pulse through my veins, making my head pound with the need for vengeance. I
still can’t wrap my head around how Dom and his fucking gang knew where and when my auction was taking place. Someone
talked, and I will find out who; it’s only a matter of time.
“She, uh, well... sir.” I raise an eyebrow at his lack of words, wondering if I should just dispose of him since he’s wasting
my time.
“What!” I bark out, my patience going out the window the moment he stepped through my door.
“Nicola was seen walking into the residence of Dom. We didn’t know at first it was his until he stepped outside with...”
His face pales, and a bead of sweat rolls down his temple as he gets nervous the longer I glare at him to continue: “Nicholas
and his friends were seen leaving the premises with that girl.”
I don’t move a muscle. My body strains to pick up my cell phone and have my son come to my house so I can slowly choke
the life out of him. He’s dead to me. I no longer have a son, and he’ll regret the day he betrayed me, his own flesh and blood.
“Gather the men and continue to follow him. Bring me my daughter.”
He bows and quickly turns on his heels to leave the room. The moment the door is shut, I sweep my hand over my desk,
sending everything to the floor with a crash. My breathing is labored as I collapse back into my chair.
I no longer have a son or daughter. Nicholas is about to learn that no one, not even my own blood, can go behind my back.
When he sees what I’ll do to Nicola, he will wish I put a bullet through his head instead of making him watch as my men torture
his sister before someone buys her.
My triad will destroy them all.
 Tillie

“P aris!” Logan shouts until his voice is hoarse, struggling with the chains until his whole body strains on the edge of his
seat.
I collapse back in my chair, feeling numb and disoriented, like this isn’t really happening. He’s picking Paris. I
thought after everything, the whispered words and promises... My vision blurs as tears cloud over my eyes.
“I knew you’d pick me, baby; we’re meant to be together,” Paris gushes as I turn my head to look at her, seeing her gloating
expression at the devastation that must be mine.
“I pick Paris. Kill the bitch; I don’t give a flying fuck what you do to her! Just let Tillie go! She hasn’t done anything. Keep
me, but let her go.” Logan heaves for breath until his voice catches on a hitch. My head whips over to stare at him in disbelief.
Did he really say that?
He meets my stare head-on, his muscles tight and bulging as the chains pull taunt. He struggles against the steel, almost like
he’s going to break out of them and take me away. I feel more tears collect, spilling down my cheeks, as he looks at me with so
much love and heartbreak at the same time.
“I’m sorry, baby girl. I couldn’t protect you like I promised,” he whispers in a choked voice, his muscular shoulders
slumping with defeat as his head bows down. Those chocolate locks I love to run my fingers through, blocking my view of his
face,
“What?! You can’t mean that! You can’t kill me! Do you fuckers know who I am?” Paris goes ballistic next to me, her chair
rocking side to side as she goes nuts to escape.
“You’ve chosen, but will you pull the trigger?” Evan steps into the doorway, covered in shadows and a black ski mask, as
he talks into his collective Darth Vader voice box.
I would laugh, but I feel like my heart is going to burst out of my chest and land at Logan’s feet in a bloody mess. I know
he’ll take care of me, keeping me close and protected. He really does love me, and I can’t stop fucking crying.
This right here.
This fucking moment makes us stronger.
“I’ll do whatever the fuck you want, but you let her go.” Logan doesn’t look away from Evan’s hiding spot; his eyes are
telling everyone that once he’s free, everyone dies.
I practically swooned in my chair, blinking away tears. I’m going to love him so hard; by love, I mean with my whole heart
and vagina. I’m going to hug his cock tight with my pussy while telling him I’m completely his.
I might be a bit crazy like Tey, but fuck it.
Mine.
Another shadow of a man steps into the room, and I look out of the corner of my eye, knowing right away that it’s Dom. He
has this confident swagger that can’t be missed. It says, look at me; I hold the upper hand and have a big dick.
 Ignoring the screeches of Paris, or at least trying to since it feels like she’s screaming in my ear, I give Dom a small nod
and watch him walk across the room to stand behind Logan.
My sexy Italian stops struggling right away, his whole body going rigid at having a man at his exposed back.
“There’s one bullet in the gun; make the shot count.” Evan’s voice trembles slightly, and he quickly walks out the door
beside him, leaving Dom to do the rest.
A gun is placed in Logan’s chained hand; his arm only allows so much movement that he can’t raise the weapon higher than
his waist. It happens within a blink of an eye; he doesn’t hesitate the moment his fingers grip the gun.
Click.
Click.
Click.
Logan repeatedly pulls the trigger, the empty sound of the gun echoing around the cement walls. His teeth are gnashing
together as he lowers his arm and tosses the weapon at Paris’s feet with a curse after he just had it pointed right between her
eyes.
“You were really going to kill me! You motherfucker! My daddy will kill you for this. He knows people!”
This bitch.
I bet her “daddy” knows people, being the slimeball judge he is since he associates himself with Franco. Corrupted and
evil, just like his “lovely” daughter.
“Knows people? Little girl, I am the people,” Dom announces in a beautiful, haunting voice as he addresses Paris, breaking
his silence and walking around to stand in front of Logan with his enormous arms crossed over his wide chest.
“You son of a bitch!” Logan starts cursing, his words switching to Italian and back to English. I’m not sure he even notices
he’s doing that.
Dom pulls his mask off, and even with the light dim, I can see him roll his eyes as he ignores Logan. His steps are slow as
he comes over to my sitting position and trails his fingers around my neck and down my shoulder so lightly that I shiver.
“My daddy’s a powerful man! You’ll go missing, and no one will miss you! I’ll tell him to kill you!” Paris continues to
scream, but I block her out as shivers from Dom’s sensual touch trail down my spine.
I meet Logan’s angry eyes but see the hurt behind the mask he’s trying to put on. My strong, broken man contains so much
pain. I only want to take it all away for him and see him open up to me completely.
I think he can do that once he understands why I did it. Maybe he already does, but I’ll prove to him that nothing can ever
break us apart now.
I’m all in.
“Have fun, mama. Try not to make him bleed too much,” Dom mutters smoothly into my ear, that slight Spanish accent
turning my insides to freaking jelly.
I have it really bad for these men. I was doomed from the very beginning, the moment we all met, but that’s okay. One way
or another, we live and breathe until, one day, we just stop. I’d rather have my last breath knowing that I fucking lived to my
fullest and loved to the point of pain.
It’s worth all of it.
“I’ll try,” I whisper with a small chuckle and stand up the moment he cuts my zip ties, freeing my wrists.
I place a soft kiss on his whiskery cheek, loving the feel of his stubble against my lips, and drop back down on my heels.
He smooths a large palm through my hair while pulling a loaded gun from the waistband of his pants and gently placing a gun in
my right hand.
He kisses the top of my head with a small sigh, like he doesn’t want to leave the room, but he pulls away and leaves with
the door shutting behind him.
With a deep breath, I glance away from the doorway and gather my courage as my fingers grip the gun.
My eyes meet light brown, honey-colored eyes again. He stares at me without blinking, his wide, strong chest rising and
falling rapidly while his lips are pressed in a tight line. So that’s how it’s going to be? He’s not going to break the silence first.
Without looking away, I tug my underwear down my legs until they're pooling at my ankles. Logan’s pupils widen; his face
is set in stone, but his eyes betray him always, with so much emotion showing. Lust and anger are such beautiful looks on him.
He could want to hate or kill me, but he’ll never stop wanting me.
“I hope you're sold and raped a million times over!” Paris screeches, glaring death daggers at me when I look over at her.
She broke the silence between me and Logan.
God. I hate her.
I bend down, grab my panties, and take two steps to stand in front of her. I can feel Logan’s gaze on my ass, making my
insides burn alive with the heat from his stare.
“You should just shut up while you can. You're only digging your hole deeper,” I say to Paris, staring down at her with
disgust.
“Fuck you, cunt. You have no idea what I can have done to you!” Paris screams, her face turning an ugly shade of red.
 I tsk at her and snap my hand out to grab ahold of her cheeks between my pointer finger and thumb until her mouth drops
open under the hard pressure.
“That’s why you’ll always be weak, Paris. I don’t let anyone else do my dirty laundry. Now, since you can’t shut up, I’ll
just have to make you. Watch and learn bitch, because you’ll never have what’s mine,” I threaten darkly and quickly shove my
balled up panties in her mouth. I chuckle as she gags and screams behind the fabric I shoved practically down her throat. She
won’t be able to spit them out.
With her jabbering mouth somewhat quiet, I pivot on my feet and try to appear calm as I approach Logan. Stepping between
his spread thighs, I stare into his intense eyes and slowly lower to my knees until my eyes are at a level with his cock that’s
straining against his boxer briefs.
“I told myself no man would ever get me to willingly lower my knees to the floor. Ever. But here I am, right in front of you,
on my fucking knees. Be mad all you want, but listen to what I have to say. Every single word that’s going to come out of my
mouth.” My voice is raspy and slightly shaky as I hold his stare.
I place the gun down next to his feet, nervously running my hands lightly up and down his calves, hoping he’ll understand.
He doesn’t try to shove me away or say anything. His whole body is tense, but his eyes narrow sharply down at me as his
nostrils flare when I feel tears gathering at the corner of my eyes.
“I was shut down for a long time, baby. Everything felt hollow, as if nothing mattered. I didn’t hear or see anything. I raced
to feel something for those split seconds, but it always ended the moment the rush died down. I went around like a ghost,
Logan. I was so close to calling it quits…” He shakes his head angrily, his fists opening and closing like he wants to reach for
me.
“Baby girl–” he swallows hard, but I stop him with a choked laugh, surprising him as his eyes widen.
“Let me finish.” I shake my head, blinking the tears away as he slowly nods. “Then, I ran. I thought running and never
stopping would make the demons stay away. The thing is, I still felt nothing. Until you. Dalton. Tey. Nicky. Dom. I’m so alive,
Logan, that sometimes it’s hard to catch my breath. Suddenly, I’m craving to be touched. To receive pain that’s only going to
end up in pleasure. It opened up a world to me that I never thought I’d have. It was as if I was looking outside behind a closed
window, and then suddenly, I was on the other side and could taste freedom.” I take a deep breath and pause from stroking his
thighs the moment I reach the tight muscles, laying my palms flat to feel his strength.
“I forgave you. I put my heart at your feet, even though I knew you could break it. The only thing I held onto was my trust. It
was on a leash so tight that it kept pulling me back. All this...” I glance around at Dom’s torture room and glance back at Logan
to see him so still that it looks like he’s hardly breathing. “I’m fucking selfish, baby. I was testing you. All of this was a test to
see if I could trust you, but you want to know something?” I whisper, convinced he’s going to look at me differently, but I don’t
care.
“What?” He breathes raggedly, his body straining against the chains as he leans his face down toward me.
“If you would have pointed that gun at me and pulled the trigger, I would have still loved you. Me and you, Logan... There
is no stopping this. I’m yours, and you're mine,” I confess, rising on my knees to meet him halfway, his expression giving
nothing away, so I can’t tell what he’s thinking.
“Say it again.” He growls, his eyes hard and completely on me, as if I’m all he can see.
“Yours.” I breathe out and watch in rapture as he slowly closes his eyes and exhales through his nose, his shoulders
relaxing.
“Jesus. Fuck. Come here,” he commands, snapping his eyes open and pulling his chains so hard that they rattle and cut into
his wrists.
Gripping the back of his neck, I close the distance between us and slam my mouth roughly against his with everything I
have. My teeth bite down on his bottom lip, drawing blood as it smears across our mouths when he angles his head the other
way to deepen the kiss. Mint, something deep and dark like aged whiskey, and copper tingle on my tongue as he strokes his
against mine. I’m drowning in him, and I hope I sink to the very bottom until I can’t find my way out. As long as I can stay right
here with him.
“I need you on my cock, baby girl. Now,” he demands harshly, the deep timber in his voice literally making my thighs
quiver.
We both ignore the muffled sounds coming from behind me as I sit back on my heels with a smirk. He tries to grab me, but
he’s pulled up short by the chains. He growls in frustration, and his upper lip curls in a snarl.
I love this side of him. Consumed by need, he gets demanding and so intense that I could choke on it.
“Unchain me,” he commands, breathing heavily.
I slowly shake my head and slide my hands up his strong thighs, humming in admiration just before I reach the waistband of
his boxers.
“No,” I say simply, slowly pulling down the tight fabric that molds to his tight, toned body until his big cock springs free
and slaps against his abs.
Thick, long, and so hard, his cock looks painful as a drop of pre cum drips at his tip. Shiny and creamy. Fucking delicious,
and all for me.
“No? Tillie, unchain me right the fuck now.” He hisses as I lean forward while holding his gaze, his cock jerking as my
tongue glides up his girthy length until I’m slowly licking the pre cum away at the fat tip of his beautiful cock.
More cum comes out as I keep taking my time licking his hard cock, moaning loudly as the salty taste of him explodes on
my tongue.
“You're mine too, Lo. My slut. Now, be a good boy and let me worship you.” I withdraw, bending my head back to stare up
at him, loving every second of seeing the burning need in his eyes, his tight muscles bulging against his restraints, and the bead
of sweat rolling down between his pecs.
“Fuck,” he groans, squeezing his eyes shut tight and exhaling loudly.
His arms go slack at his sides as he spreads his knees wider apart, so I can fit perfectly between his thighs.
“Moothr fukr.”
The muffled shouts from Paris cause me to chuckle, my hot breath washing over Logan’s pulsing cock. He jerks in his seat
and flashes his eyes open to see me already staring right at him, inches from his cock. Without looking away, I lick from root to
tip so fucking slowly that I can feel the vein on his perfect cock thumping under my tongue.
“Shitttt. Baby girl, that feels amazing,” he groans out loud, completely at my mercy, and stares at me like I’m the only thing
he can see.
“Yeah? How about this?” I ask in a sultry voice as my tongue circles his engorged tip, collecting pre cum that leaves a
string from my mouth to his cock when I slightly pull away to show him the white, sticky cum on the end of my tongue.
He inhales sharply, his nostrils flaring as his pupils dilate with uncontrollable desire. Just as I like him. Full of need and
desperate, letting go of control for me.
“Good boy,” I mutter before opening my mouth wide and sliding half his cock between my lips while hollowing my cheeks
to suck the soul out of him.
He jumps in his chair, cursing in Italian and groaning so loudly that it seems to echo off the walls. I bob my head over his
lap a few times, wetting his whole cock with drops of my saliva. Breathing through my nose and squeezing his thighs until my
nails dig into his skin, I sink further down on him while flattening my tongue on the underside of his cock.
Why does it make me feel like a goddess, feeling the pumping of his heartbeat pick up on his cock? Every twitch and jerk
as I swallow more of him until he’s in the back of my throat and he’s going insane above me.
“Jesus fucking Christ!” he shouts in a raspy voice, the chains rattling as his body jerks to reach for me again, and I stop
sucking, looking up at him under my lashes with an arched brow.
If my mouth wasn’t so full of him, on the verge of choking on his fat cock, I’d be smiling as he makes a sound of agony as he
slumps back in his chair with his head thrown back. I love seeing his Adam's apple bobbing and the sheen of sweat slicking his
skin. All mine. I slide my hands up his thighs, over the grooves of his hip bones, and up his muscled chest. Lightly skimming my
fingertips over his throat and down his sternum, he chuckles at the pure adoration in my touch and glances back at me.
“God damn it, baby girl. You are killing me. Worship me more,” he pleads, swallowing hard as I drag my mouth off him
while swirling my tongue the whole time until it’s just the very tip.
I can’t help sucking his unbelievably hard cock like a damn lollipop, feeling more pre cum collect on my tongue before
slipping him from my mouth with a pop.
“Would you do anything for me?” I whisper, pulling away and standing up in front of him.
He watches my every movement as I reach back and unhook my bra, letting the fabric drop to the floor. I’m being devoured
and ravished with just his eyes alone, and it’s making my body burn for him.
“Anything,” he simply states, not hesitating once.
I bend down and grab the gun, placing it in his hand before drawing back.
“Would you kill–”
A bang goes off, the warm splatter of blood hitting my naked back.
“–for me.” I finish, breathing hard as he lowers the gun, dropping it on the floor.
I don’t turn away from his penetrating gaze, but the sudden silence says enough.
One single step and I’m in his lap, my hands roaming over his broad shoulders before traveling up to sink in the back of his
hair in a tight grip as I drag his mouth to mine.
I taste blood; the impact from kissing him so hard cuts one of our mouths. That’s how it always is with this man.
Bloody.
Raw.
And dirty.
I hope it’s always like this.
Shifting my hips back and forth over his lap, wetness drips from between my legs, coating his whole cock until I can’t take
it anymore.
Pulling back, I inhale a deep breath and stare into his eyes as I reach down to grab his hard cock. Lining him up, I don’t
waste another second. I angle my hips and slam down on him, a cry leaving my lips. It feels like the best kind of pleasure and
pain, and it makes me desperate for more. The sweet, delicious spread that makes my pussy weep for him as he practically
tears me apart with his fat cock.
“You're fucking perfect. You know that?” he breathes out in awe, his voice rough, as I grip his shoulders and slide
unhurriedly up his thick cock before pausing. “Ride me. Use me, baby girl. I’m all yours,” he rasps out, holding completely still
even as his cock jerks inside of me.
“Would you love me no matter what?” I ask, my legs trembling with the need to sink back down on him, but I need to hear it
first.
“Always,” he says easily, staring deeply into my eyes, that I finally let go.
I drop back down on him with a moan, loving the feeling of him filling me up, before rising back up to do it again. The wet,
slick noise makes him groan as my pussy grips him tightly, dripping all over his cock. I love seeing his eyes half-closed with
desire and the way his teeth clench as he tries to hold himself back from coming.
“Not yet,” I demand with a long, drawn out moan.
“Fuck.” He pants as I grind down on him, moving back and forth so that his pelvic bone rubs against my clit each time I
push back against his hard, sweaty body.
My stomach tightens, feeling exquisite rapture gather and expand until my pussy is fluttering around his cock. Needing
more, I lean back with my hands behind me on his knees and shift slowly with a roll of my hips. We both watch as his cock
slips in and out of my pussy, glistening. He hits a spot inside of me that causes my toes to curl, and I move faster against him
like my life depends on it. My thighs start to tremble; I’m close to coming. The sound of our breathing is loud, along with the
filthy noise of his slicked cock rutting into me as he lifts his hips and fucks me hard. Supporting my hand on his thigh, I lean up
slightly and grab the back of his neck with my other hand and slowly roll my hips over him. His full lips part as he stares at me,
looking deep into my soul.
This is what it means when you find your other half—the one that completes you.
It starts with affection and turns into heartbreak, but somehow you find yourself falling in so deep that it’s more than love.
It’s a soulmate.
“Logan.” My voice shakes, and I pant as I move faster and faster against him.
“I know, baby girl. I feel it too.” His lips curl slightly with the smallest smile, feeling the same thing I am right now.
“Mine,” I state this, sitting up to lean my forehead against his and wrap both arms around his neck.
“Yours.” He groans, rolling his forehead along mine as he stares into my eyes without looking away.
“Oh God. Now, Lo.” My pussy squeezes him tight, so tight that he has to muscle his cock in as if I’m trying to push him out
until he’s straight up rutting into me.
My screams pierce the walls, echoing back to us as my pussy walls flutter madly around him. Everything goes hazy. Only
his honey eyes are my focus as I come and keep coming on his pulsing cock. Jerking back, his cock slips out of me, and the first
wet splash hits his abs as I squirt again and again until it seems like it will never stop. He groans loudly and almost seems
hypnotized as he watches his thick cock slip between my pussy lips until I’m completely stretched around him.
I slam down on him until he fills me so deeply that it almost hurts, and I stay that way as tiny aftershocks of my orgasm
make me shake. The first splash of his cum actually makes me gasp; I can feel it every time more hot cum coats my insides. It
seems endless, like he’s never going to stop coming, even as it leaks out of me and drips between us.
“Fuck me.” Logan pants, his cock still jerking inside of me.
I can’t help laughing, even though I moan as I sit back on his lap with my arms around his neck and my fingers lazily sliding
through his hair.
“I just did, and you were such a good boy.” I smirk as he shifts his legs, making my body slide forward until I’m plastered
against his chest.
He kisses me hungrily, owning my lips as he bites down on my bottom lip to hold me still as he growls. My eyes flutter shut
in bliss as I deepen the kiss, never wanting it to end. His cock that was already semi-hard is at full mast again, and I can’t help
rocking my hips a little over the thick length of him.
“Peaches, I am in awe of you for putting our boy in his place. Also, I’m as hard as a fucking diamond. I recorded the whole
thing for later. Spank bank, baby.” Tey’s voice echoes around the room, and I break the kiss, looking around for him until I
notice the black speaker attached to the ceiling right next to a camera.
“I’m going to murder him.” Logan groans, glaring up at the camera.
“Bad, Logan. Be a good boy, and the person with the key might be willing to release you.” Tey’s voice is cut off as he
chuckles like an evil villain.
Logan rolls his eyes and looks at me with a small smirk, saying, “I could think of worse places to be. I’m actually content
right where I’m at.”
“As much as I’d love to sit on your dick all day, I’d rather do it in a bed and not in Dom’s torture basement with a dead
body behind me.” I remind him of Paris just as the main door to the room slides open.
 “Enjoying yourself, mama?” Dom asks smoothly in that sexy, deep-accented voice of his as he walks over behind Logan
and unlocks his chains with the key he produces from his pocket. “I must say, you look like the queen I know you are.”
“Her throne of cocks. She rules over all our cocks and hearts, of course,” Tey announces cheerfully while he literally skips
into the room and stops right beside me to lay a smacking kiss on my cheek while trailing his fingers up and down my blood-
covered back.
“Damn, little bitch.” Dalton whistles in the doorway, taking in my position, then glancing behind me with a tilt of his head
and saying, “You blow her brains out, bro? The last thing she saw was Tillie taking your dick like she owns it.” He winks at
me as he leans against the doorframe with his arms crossed over his barrel chest.
“Can I please take Paris’s body for a while? I promise to have her parts back in time for Franco’s dinner party.” Tey pouts
dramatically and bats his lashes when I look up at him, confused.
“What… Jesus. I forgot about the dinner with the judge. He’s going to be in for a surprise, that’s for sure.” I glance over my
shoulder and can’t help but grimace at Paris.
Her body is still in a sitting position, but her head hangs back with her chin tipped towards the ceiling. A bullet hole is just
slightly below her jaw, and behind her on the wall is splattered brain matter. What a mess.
“I am not cleaning that up,” I say with a shiver.
“What are you going to do with her body?” Nicky asks in a bored tone as he casually strolls into the room and stops by
Paris’s body.
He examines her as an excited Tey walks over to him and tilts her body parts left and right, like he can’t decide where to
start. Nicky tenses with a scowl on his face, and dare I say a hint of jealousy is shining in his green eyes?
“Nicholas,” I say softly as I stand from Logan’s lap with his helping hand, hiding my shaking limbs as best as I can and the
cum leaking down my thighs while walking towards Nicky.
I’m not doing the best either since everyone’s attention is on me like sharks in blood-infested water.
“Down boys.” I giggle at the hungry looks scanning up and down my body. “What art piece are you going to make,
TeyTey?” I ask with an interested hum as I twine my fingers with Nicky’s and give him a gentle squeeze.
His whole body seems to melt with the simple touch, and his emerald eyes stare down at me with gratitude.
I get where he’s coming from. Having to watch Tey from a distance and wanting him for so long, it’s hard to get past the
thought of him being someone else's, even a dead body. I’m the exception, and I’m just happy his heart is big enough for two
people. I really do feel lucky every morning when I open my eyes and think about each of my guys.
“I was thinking the hole in the back of her head could be filled with flowers. I think it would be pretty.” Tey circles Paris’s
body with his index and thumb cradling his chin as he’s deep in thought.
That’s my man. The artist.
“That’s perfect,” I say with approval in my voice and mean every word.
Whatever they do, I can’t help but think that they are perfect in their own unique way, no matter if it looks crazy to the
outside world.
What the hell does that say about me, though?
Crazy is, as crazy does?
Oh, well.
I joined the crazy train a long time ago.
 Nicola

I love my brother, I really do, but I’m not about to watch him as he stares at the monitoring screen of Dom’s torture
chamber while my bitch best friend is fucking her other boyfriend into submission. It’s really distracting listening to the
moaning and a shit ton of dirty talk. It’s why I’m in the back of the room with Evan as he faces the wall and hums under
his breath to block out all the noise.
I think I’m in love. He’s such a wonderful boyfriend, so caring and sweet, that I want to get out of here so I can ride his
disco stick, but I’m going to have to wait. I don’t want to listen to Tillie having sex, but I want to make sure she’s okay. That’s
what friends do. Ride or die, or in this case, listen to my home girl get some.
That’s my bestie in there, staking her claim, and I’m so damn proud of her.
“Girl power!” I shout loudly in the quiet surveillance room, interrupting the ragged breathing of her men and Tey’s cray-
cray mumbling.
Nicky whips his head over towards me, taking his dilated eyes off the computer screen. His eyebrows hit his hairline as if
he’s surprised, I’m still here and he forgot about me. I rock on my heels, pinch Evans' tight butt without meaning to, and shift my
gaze to the ceiling because everyone is staring at me now and I’d rather not see the tented pants popping up everywhere I look.
Gross.
These guys are like big brothers to me. I’ve known them my whole life. Except Dom, so I guess it’s okay to look. I mean,
Tillie already gave me a mental image of what he’s packing down there with her hands, so I’m kind of curious. It can’t be
bigger than Dalton's, and I only know his dick is big because I’ve always thought he walks a little too confidently as if he has a
third leg, plus my girl was walking like a cowboy after I stumbled into their fuckfest at Gary the douche’s party.
“Bonetown!” I yell, pointing fingers like little guns, and then smack myself in the forehead because it’s now known what I
was just thinking about.
I used to be beyond embarrassed by my Tourette’s, but I learned over the years that no matter who you are, someone is
always going to judge you. I decided to own that shit and make everyone else my bitch. Okay. Not really. I’m just a girl who
looks in the mirror and likes what she sees. Not many can say or do that. We all have our flaws, differences, etc. I’m proud of
mine.
“Jesus Christ, Nicola!” Nicky shouts in Japanese, striding quickly towards me as he starts to steer me out of the room.
I only put up a little bit of a fight, digging my heels in until I hear Tillie over the speakers, “Would you love me no matter
what?” Logan replies with “Always,” and my job here is done. She’s safe and damn happy, as far as I can tell from the screams
coming through the speakers. I grab Evan’s arm and pull him with me as Nicky walks us faster to the door. Once out in the
hallway, Tillie’s sounds of pleasure cut off as the surveillance room door shut behind us.
“Thank fuck,” Evan mutters under his breath as his shoulders sag in relief.
He pushes his sexy glasses up his nose and grins at me with his Darth Vader helmet under his arm. So hot. I’m going to have
him wear that later when I’m giving him a blowjob. Ugh. I can totally picture him using Daddy Darth's voice to tell me he’s my
daddy.
The force of his orgasm will be strong.
I’m stuck daydreaming and shake my head when I see Nicky towering over my boyfriend.
“You got a problem with hearing my girl get fucked?” Nicky growls like a straight-up Neanderthal.
I quickly get between them, pushing on my big brother’s chest, and flick him on the nose. He glares and takes a step back,
crossing his arms with that annoying look on his face that says he’s going to kill someone.
He’s so weird.
“I could only handle singing Baby Shark Do Do Do so much before I lost my mind. It’s not easy blocking out all the noise
going on in there, but I managed to.” Evan stands up straighter, looking my brother in the eye without blinking, even though
sweat is dripping down Evan’s forehead the longer they stare at each other.
That’s hot. He’s totally getting a blowie after we get out of here for standing up to my overbearing brother.
Nicky narrows his eyes even more then he grunts before turning his gaze to me.
That’s it. All is good now. Men are weird.
“Check in with me, keep your phone on you, and don’t go home,” Nicky grumbles, his facial expression worried, as he
pulls me into a hug with a tight squeeze before letting me go.
My eyes water as I watch him disappear back into the room with the other guys. Nicky has always looked out for me. He
shielded me from the harshness of the world we were born into and took the wrath of my father, so I was never harmed. My
brother tried his hardest to keep me out of the way, and I pretended ignorance to appease him. I knew from an early age just
how cruel our father was. I saw everything. Every beating Nicky received left bruises that he tried to hide from me and act like
he wasn’t in pain. The coming and going of evil men into our homes. The women would go into a building and not return. The
dead look in my mother’s eyes as she would quietly leave the room when my father became mad, letting his anger lash at
Nicky.
I see it all, and it hurts so fucking much, knowing my brother suffers at the hands of our father. I lay in guilt at night,
wondering what I can do to stop it all, but I sometimes think I’m weak like our mother. I never fight back because I’m afraid I’ll
end up like those girls who just disappear once they come across the Triad. It all makes me want to scream at the top of my
lungs and put a bullet through Jin’s skull.
Maybe I can.
I can be strong and brave like Nicholas. Maybe it’s finally my turn to protect him.
“Hey. What are you thinking about so hard over there?” Evan questions me as he drapes his arm over my shoulder while
leading me out of the house and down the driveway to his car.
“Do you have a gun?” He jolts against me, startled by my answer, and looks into my eyes with his head tilted as his glasses
slide down his nose.
Sexy, but in a nerdy way. I’m here for it.
I fidget in my seat the moment my butt hits the smooth leather. I’m trying to stay in control so my Tourette’s doesn’t get out
of control as I watch him calmly shut my car door and round the hood.
He doesn’t say anything as he starts the car and pulls out of the gate. His brows are pinched together in worry as he
struggles to give me an answer. I end up smacking my arm repeatedly, not meaning to, as I become increasingly nervous the
longer he’s silent. My head twitches to the right in a tick that won’t stop. Feeling his hand suddenly in mine helps my heart rate
slow down, and I eventually can turn my head to look at him as the ticks decrease.
“I have a concealed weapon. I’m just worried about why you're asking,” Evan says, stroking his thumb back and forth over
my wrist.
I won’t ever lie to him. He’s a good guy. He doesn’t deserve deception from me. I sometimes wonder if love is worth
dragging him into my dangerous world and if I’m only setting him up to get hurt or, worse, killed.
Love is funny that way. It can be selfish and hurt to the core because we don’t want to lose the one good thing in our lives.
I guess I’m rotten, like Jin. I can’t see my life without Evan’s hand in mine.
“I’m going to kill my father. For Nicky and for myself,” I say casually with a shrug like it’s no big deal, but my palms sweat
at just the thought of doing it.
Could I pull the trigger when the time came?
I don’t know, but I have to try.
“Holy Batman!” He shouts out loud, making me jump in my seat as he lets go of my hand.
Evan swerves the car at the last second, realizing he ran a stop sign and almost hit another car. Maybe I shouldn’t be having
this conversation while he’s driving. I should have waited when we got to his house, distracted him with sex, and then
announced I needed a bang stick. He straightens the wheel and takes a deep breath as he merges onto the highway towards his
home, his gaze ​focused on the road.
“I’m thinking we might have to rethink this relationship,” I start to say but screech as Evan yanks the wheel sharply,
jumping over the intersection while I grab the ‘oh shit’ bar.
I bounce in my seat and gape at him as he quickly gets off the highway from the other side. Car horns honk at us; pissed-off
drivers are probably praying for our deaths. For some reason, seeing him take control of the vehicle like that makes my vagina
weep.
I need help. Like, someone should definitely call my therapist before I decide to give him road head and really get us in a
car accident. He glances out of the corner of his eye at me, doing a double take since I’m staring at him twisted in my seat. I’m
probably drooling, and my eyes keep shifting towards his lap, wondering if his dick would like a warm hug from my mouth.
“You can’t leave me. Me and you against the world, Nicola. I’ll get you a fucking bazooka, grenades, or whatever you
want. You just can’t leave me,” Evan says in a stern voice that I have to slap my hand when it climbs up my own leg towards
the promised land.
Fuck, that’s hot.
His jaw is tight, his glasses perched on the end of his nose as he glares at the road, all while his knuckles turn white on the
steering wheel.
“I love you.” He curses at my declaration, nearly hitting an old lady who’s crossing the street. “But if you let me finish
talking, I was going to tell you Batman sucks. Go with Captain America next time. His ass is the symbol for America, after all.”
He slams the brakes at the stoplight, jerking us both in our seats, and turns halfway towards me.
“You really mean that?” He chokes out, staring intensely at me.
Crap. Did I hurt his feelings? I literally have no filter.
“Your ass is so much better than Captain America, baby.” I lean forward, petting his arm and making shushing noises to
calm him down, just in case.
A car honks behind us, making Evan swear again as he notices the light green and turns forward again.
“No. Not that. You really love me?” He says this with a pitched voice before clearing his throat and looking over to see me
nodding my head quickly.
“I love yo— Fuck!” I was leaning eagerly in my seat when I noticed his eyes shift over my shoulder and widen until I could
only see his pupils expanding behind his glasses.
A loud crunch blasts in my ears, followed by shattering glass and screaming. It’s so loud; that’s all I can focus on as my
world tips upside down. I’m the one making that noise, screaming in terror. Unbelievable pain spears into my shoulder and leg
while my vision grows fuzzy. What seems like hours later but is probably only seconds later, I blink rapidly. The first thing I
notice is that the windshield is scattered across the cement, and I’m hanging upside down.
Groaning, I slowly turn my head to see Evan hanging limply in his seat with blood dripping down his forehead.
“Evan.” My voice comes out raspy and so quiet, probably from screaming and shock. “Evan!” I say loudly and sigh in
relief as he groans in pain, blinking rapidly.
His glasses fell off at some point, so I know his eyesight is blurry and he can’t see much. He’s only looking at me, though,
reaching his hand out frantically.
“You okay?!” He practically shouts, struggling in his seat, but his belt buckle won’t come loose.
“Just dandy. What happened?” I look around, grimacing in pain at my burning shoulder, and notice multiple men, all
dressed in black, heading our way with guns.
I whip my head towards Evan, seeing him clenching his ribs and breathing fast.
“I’m about to be taken, baby. Don’t do anything. Tell Nicky the triad came to collect,” I say it so fast I’m not even sure he
understands, as he shakes his head as if to focus.
“Wha-What? No!” He yells, trying to reach for me as my mangled door is wrenched open and rough hands grab at me,
cutting my seat belt loose.
“Nicola!” Evan screams at the top of his lungs as I’m dragged out, my legs cutting into the glass as my father’s men grab me
under my arms on each side.
The last thing I see is Evan’s frantic eyes connecting with mine in despair before his body goes limp, probably passing out
from blood loss.
I’m not even fighting; there isn’t any point. The triad is surrounding Evan’s car and the van I’m being tossed into. If my
father was showing up, I would be thrown into a limo with his disapproving glare. This isn’t the typical lecture that I’m a
useless daughter; I’m being taken by my father’s men and tossed around like yesterday’s trash. I have the biggest feeling I’m
going to be in a lot of pain later. I just hope my brother doesn’t come for me and do anything stupid, like face Jin alone.
“Fuck!” I yell just as a burlap bag is thrown over my head just as I watch two of the triad walk back over to Evan and start
to take him out of the car too.
No. No. No. No. Please, not Evan!
Please, Nicky. Don’t come for me.
I repeat it over and over, wishing it would be true, but I know my brother.
We are both going to die.
 Tillie

“P recious…” a voice whispers low and wickedly in my ear. “Wakey wakey, Precious.”
I groan and roll over, snuggling up against a warm, hard body just to get away from the most evil man in history. He
comes after me anyway, wrapping an arm around my waist from behind, and strokes my belly over my satin pajamas.
“You can’t escape me. Open those gorgeous eyes before I decide to pluck them out so I can stare at them all day,” Tey
whispers right into my ear like the devil, his hot breath causing goosebumps to pebble my arms.
His words register a second later, and my eyes snap open as I look over my shoulder at him to see his eyes crinkled at the
corner from laughter but oh so serious.
“Jesus fucking Christ, Tey! It’s too damn early for crazy talk. Either take her or shut the fuck up.” Dalton’s chest rumbles
against my chest, his voice grumpy from being woken up before the sun decides to even rise.
“Take me? Really?” I mock his grumpy tone, glaring at him when I turn back towards Dalton, but he’s already rolling away
from me with an arm over his eyes before a snore sounds from his lush, parted lips.
“Great idea. I’m kidnapping you for the day. All mine. Whatever shall I do with you?” Tey whispers excitedly and makes
me squeal as he tightens his arm around me, pulling me out of bed to scoop me in his arms, bridal style.
“You should put me back in bed, tuck me in, and tell me I’m pretty while going back to sleep,” I sass, trying to glare, but it’s
hard when he’s smiling so lovingly down at me.
He could be thinking I’m God’s gift to him or taking my eyeballs to admire from a glass jar. I can never tell. Oh well, I
know he loves me, so I’ll take what I can get.
“Nope. But you are pretty. I like pretty things,” he says, popping the P as he strides to the bathroom and sets me on the
counter while petting my hair as if I’m a cute little puppy snuggled in his arms.
Without another word, he wets my toothbrush with toothpaste and hands it to me with an arched eyebrow, daring me to test
him by disobeying his silent demand. I quickly brush my teeth with a groan, blurry-eyed, and wondering why I’m up so early.
Last night was emotionally exhausting, but one of the best nights I can add to the growing list since meeting my guys. I broke
Logan in the most beautiful ways, and he made me feel so complete that I never had to question his motives again. Never doubt
us.
I feel so free and light. It’s an odd feeling, but I never want to lose it.
I hop off the counter to rinse my mouth, glancing up at the mirror to see Tey leaning against the wall with his arms crossed
and a soft smile. He looks peaceful and calm, which I haven’t seen before. I go about washing my face, unable to keep my eyes
off him for only a few seconds. Drying off, I spin towards him and wrap my arms around his waist, placing my chin on his
chest while gazing up at him with a smile.
“Where are we going?” I try to put more of a chipper tone in my voice, needing to stay positive when I’d really like to
crawl back into bed and ignore all my troubles.
 “I want you to see how I grew up. I’ve seen all the bad and ugly in this fucked-up world, but not all of it is horrible. You
shared everything with us, and I want to do the same,” he says while swaying us in place, his smile contagiously spreading, that
I can’t help returning one of my own that doesn’t feel forced.
“Whatever you want, baby.” I reach up on my toes and peck a quick kiss on his cheek before separating from him to walk
into my closet.
“Don’t say things like that. I want a lot from you. Are you willing to give up your mind and body to me?” His voice is low,
and his body is inches from my exposed back as I whip off Dom’s t-shirt. I can see his shadow overtake mine in the dim
lighting.
I don’t say anything as I dress in soft, stretchy shorts and a loose tank top. I thought he would have understood by now, but I
guess I have to actually say it. After the dungeon sex last night, I was carried up the stairs by Logan, and I could hear the guys
following as they laughed and joked around. My freaking heart could have burst out of my chest and flopped around in joy. I
have a family. Living a dangerous life takes a toll on you, but these moments of happiness are worth it.
Logan and Tey cleaned me thoughtfully in the warm shower without being too overly sexual. They took their sweet time,
taking care of me after. It was the calming movements of their big hands that helped relax me while I helped wash off the blood
splattered all over Tey’s hands, all the way up to his elbows. After that, Lo picked me up again, like he couldn’t bear to let me
go even for a second. Dom took his shirt off and placed it over my head the moment we emerged from the bathroom into the
master suite, I could only smell the dark chocolate and spicy scent that was naturally his. We all gathered in the living room as I
sat on Logan’s lap sideways on the couch, and Dalton brushed my hair carefully through each tangle as I leaned my shoulder
against his chest. No one brought up business or what the next day would hold; it was just light topics in hushed tones as a
movie played in the background on low volume. I must have drifted off at some point because I didn’t even wake up as I was
placed in Dom’s bed. I guess it’s our bed now; we might need a bigger one to fit us all.
“I’d let you cut me open, bleeding just for you, until I’m drained and just an empty vessel. If it were my very last breath, I
would die with a smile on my face because it’s your face I’m seeing last with my blood smeared all over you. I’m all yours,
Tey,” I gasp as I find myself suddenly upside down. Tey has thrown me over his shoulder and is currently running out of the
room with a manic laugh as I bounce against his shoulder.
“I love you so fucking much, Tillie. You have no idea,” he says out of breath, running out the front door without shutting it.
“Jesus. Put me down!” My giggles can’t be contained as he smacks my ass and stops by the garage doors that are opening
just as he slides me down off his shoulder.
Everything spins until all I can see are Tey’s bright blue eyes as he squishes my face between his hands.
“We have a surprise for you. I’m finally going to be your bitch!” Tey pumps his hands in the air and whistles just as the
garage door opens.
Dom is leaning against a pitch-black crotch rocket with his hands in his pockets and a broad grin. His white button-down
shirt is open, leaving all his abs to my hungry gaze.
“Hey, mama.” Dom’s deep, accented Spanish voice feels like he caresses my skin, rubbing me in all the right ways. “Don’t
drive too fast, I don’t want my queen hurt.” He swaggers towards me with cocky confidence as I bite my lip, looking him up
and down. Is it hot in here? It should be illegal how good he looks as he places a pair of keys in my limp hand.
I can't believe this motorcycle is for me. My mouth drops in shock as I deny what’s right in front of me. I look at the shiny
surface of the bike that shows my reflection and back at Dom. My eyes don’t know where to look first. Smooth, tan lines of
Dom’s abs as his shirt blows in the warm breeze, freaking looking like a Calvin Klein commercial, or the big smile stretching
over Tey’s face as he watches my head whip back and forth. I probably look like a cartoon character with my eyes wide and
my mouth hanging open to catch flies.
“I-I don’t know what to say! This is too much,” I cry out, feeling a pinch in my chest, because I don’t think I’ll ever get used
to surprises or presents.
“Don’t say anything. Let us spoil you. We want to give you everything; accept it because it’s too good for us, Mama. It’s
worth seeing your eyes sparkle in warmth and joy.” Dom holds my face between his large palms, placing a kiss on my forehead
as light as a feather as he takes a deep breath.
“Stop sniffing her as if she’s the best high you’ve ever had. Gimme! My turn!” Tey grumbles with a pout as his face appears
next to ours; he’s trying to wedge himself between us as if feeling left out.
I giggle, and a sensation like I’m floating comes over me. I want every day to be like this. No worries, no pressure—just us
being, well, us. Almost normal.
Almost.
We’ll never be normal like those people out there who get up in the morning with a smile and do the same thing every
single day. Our lives will probably always be fireworks and explosions, but at least we can take them one step at a time. Days
like today.
“Fine.” I fake a sulky pout as if it’s the worst thing ever to get a bike as a present.
Tey laughs and swings me around in a circle in his arms until I feel like I’m going to puke. Dizzy, he sets me down next to
the bike and hops on, scooting back to make room for me in front of him. I'm excitedly jumping up and down, I can hardly wait
to feel the thrill of driving fast and the bike vibrating between my legs. I’m just about to swing my leg over the small seat while
grabbing the handlebars when a throat clears loudly behind me.
Spinning around, I skip back to Dom with a grin and stand on my toes with my hands sliding up his impressive chest until
they rest against his broad shoulders. He stares down at me, a slow, pleased smile stretching across his handsome, tan face as
he lowers his face towards mine.
How the hell did I get so lucky landing men who are sexy as fuck? If I had a rosary, I’d be kissing the cross and thanking
baby Jesus for sending me these dangerous, wicked men with muscles that I can admire and drool all over.
“I’m going to show you just how appreciative I am when we return,” I emphasize by sliding my hand down towards his belt
and tugging at it, skimming my nails over the dips and ridges of his waist. “Thank you, Papi.”
His nostrils flare as I slam our mouths together, flickering my tongue along his full bottom lip with a moan. He tastes like
sin and dark chocolate. I’m addicted, my mouth fusing to his as he takes control of the kiss, sliding his big hand under my hair
and gripping it tight. Angling his head, his tongue snakes against mine, stroke for stroke, lighting my body up and silently
begging for more as I bite his lip. The growl that pushes up his throat has my pussy throbbing and my silk underwear drenched
in seconds.
Am I forever going to walk around with wet panties around these men? I should probably carry around extra underwear,
just in case.
“Be good.” His tone is demanding yet smooth, with a throaty purr that promises more of his lips on my body later.
“Flower, I’m dying over here. My dick could cut granite. Please put me out of my misery,” Tey groans behind us, and when
I turn to walk back over to him, his arms are crossed over his chest, his black-painted nails tapping on his bicep as he pouts.
“Poor baby. Does it hurt?” I widen my eyes, straining not to smile as his eyes fill with actual tears.
“My balls are blue, Tillie. Blue! Help me?” he begs as one tear leaks down his sharp cheekbones, leaving a wet spot on his
black t-shirt as it falls.
“I love you, but the fact you can produce tears this quickly scares me.” I grab his hand as he uncrosses his arms and brings
his finger up to my parted lips.
His eyes clear up real quick as I suck his index finger into my mouth, swirling my tongue around until I bite down hard
enough to almost break skin while staring into his blue gaze. Releasing him with a pop, I lean forward and swipe my tongue up
his cheek to catch a tear on his jaw. I hum under my breath and pull back with a wide grin at the glazed look in his eyes.
“I’m never letting you go. You can never hide; however far you run, I’ll always find you.” Tey draws in a deep breath, his
nostrils flaring as he runs his tongue over his teeth, just as he grabs me around the waist and places me in front of him on the
bike like I weigh next to nothing.
“Fuck.” Dom drags a hand down his face and mutters something under his breath as he turns towards the garage door that
leads into the house.
I can’t help laughing wickedly, for I live to bring chaos and spice to their lives, and I’ll always tease them. I start the bike,
the engine vibration between my thighs as Tey plasters himself to my back, his cock grinding up against my ass as his breath
warms my ear.
“You'll pay for that later; I bite back.” His sinister tone holds a dark promise and I can’t help shivering.
“I can hardly wait.” I moan as I slowly press on the gas out of the garage, wondering why we aren’t back in bed instead of
pulling out of the gates and onto the road.
The moment we are out of the fancy, rich neighborhood, Tey points to the left. I follow his silent instructions without saying
a word while pushing down on the gas so that the bike's front tire lifts slightly off the ground. Tey chuckles in my ear, his hands
clenching my hips as the wind whips at our hair while I weave between cars at a neck-breaking speed.
I missed this. The sun on my skin, freedom always within reach. It’s even better having Tey hold onto me as he howls like a
wild animal into the wind.

Twenty minutes later, after Tey gave me directions by pointing each time we needed to turn, we were pulling into a run-down
neighborhood. Some of the homes look abandoned, with dead grass on the front lawns, while others are littered with trash and
fold-up lawn chairs. Not all of the houses are bad; we pass a home with an elderly lady sitting in a chair on her porch as she
waves at us.
“Good morning, Rita!” Tey shouts out cheerfully; he must like her if he’s being less of a psycho.
He points towards a house at the end of the block—a faded yellow home with overgrown grass and a cracked driveway. I
park us on the curb in front of the house and turn the bike off. Tey slides off the back and grabs my waist, lifting me off the seat
before I even have a chance to swing my leg over. He hugs me to his chest, and I can’t help but melt against him with my head
resting right over where his heart is. The steady thump makes my shoulders relax. I hadn’t even realized I was nervous about
meeting people he cared about. Over the sound of his heart, I can hear the shouting of a couple a few houses down and the
overexcited high shrieks of children playing in the backyard of Tey’s foster home.
“Come on, sweets.” Tey pulls back, running his hand over the top of my head with a grin that brings out the dimple on his
left cheek.
Walking hand in hand towards the front door, it opens before we can step onto the crumbling front porch.
“Tey! You’re back!” a little boy shouts gleefully and launches himself into Tey’s arms the moment we are standing in front
of the door.
Tey lets go of my hand to catch the boy, who can’t be older than five. They both laugh as Tey holds the kid to his side with
one arm, his other hand rubbing small circles over his Superman t-shirt that has a few holes under the armpits.
“I said I would be. I always keep my promises, don’t I, little man?” Tey tickles the kid's sides, making him wiggle and
shriek in laughter.
I can’t stop grinning; I love seeing Tey this way. He’s good with kids, which is probably why he’s constantly slipping in
little hints that he wants to knock me up. He wants me barefoot and pregnant in the kitchen, or, in his case… in the dungeon. He
can keep dreaming; I’m not even sure if I want kids. Me, a mother? I can picture a somewhat hazy image of a little girl with
Tey’s electric blue eyes and long black hair that resembles Nicky. It’s impossible to get pregnant by two men at the same time,
but that’s all I’m seeing if I ever want to have a child. Dalton would be her protector, teaching her how to be independent while
dressing up for tea parties if she demanded it. Logan would be stern but doting, to the point that she would be spoiled as hell.
She’d be a little psycho like Tey, probably killing someone at the young age of six while Tey cheered her on with love shining
in his gaze. Nicky would be bossy, creating a mini version of him. And my King, Dom, would treat her like a princess.
If it was a boy, I’d pray for him every night because he’d turn out just like his daddies.
My God.
We would all be doomed if we had children. They’d be monsters, but our little monsters. I can’t believe I’m picturing this.
Can I see myself being a mother?
Yeah, I think I can, but only with my guys by my side. I can’t see myself raising a child with anyone else.
I’d teach my kid that it’s okay to cry, to be happy, or to be angry. That if she or he falls, they can get right back up. I’ll be
there every step of the way.
I’m losing my mind over here, and I'm seconds away from having a panic attack. What the hell am I thinking? I'm not even
out of high school yet.
Crap. I have baby on the brain, and I haven’t even received a diploma. I’m too young to be a mom! Everyone just needs to
chill here and take some deep breaths before I spiral into a panic attack. I think I’m the only one freaking out. This is all Tey’s
fault.
I try to distract my thoughts with something else so I don’t end up attacking Tey and demanding he put a baby in me.
Think, Tillie. Think!
What is boring and not life-threatening at the moment… Ah! Got it! School.
I imagine my fist pumping in the air and patting myself on the back. School is a normal subject; everyone worries about it.
Not me so much. It’s better than being kidnapped, tortured, and kidnapped again. I’m probably not graduating now after missing
so much fucking school. I used to be proud of that one thing I had control over before I came to California. Good grades are
something I could say I achieved myself. Unless I pull a Dalton and just get my GED.
One step at a time. I have to remind myself.
Someone’s always trying to kill me every few days; I deserve a freaking break. I’ll worry about it later. Maybe Nicky can
tutor me; he’s too smart for his own good, plus he’ll like bossing me around.
“Arthur, meet my gorgeous Tillie. Gorgeous, this is King Arthur.” Tey introduces us with a grin, pulling me out of my crazy
thoughts.
I’m about to say hi and ask the little guy if he thinks Tey is a good big brother since he seems great with children, but I
quickly change my mind.
He holds Arthur away from his body and crouches just before he launches the kid in the air over his head. My heart fucking
drops down to my ass as Arthur screams, looking like he’s flying like Superman, so high up over Tey.
“Tey!” I shriek, clutching my chest in panic with both hands as I reach out as if to catch Arthur.
I breathe out a relieved sigh as Tey catches him, both of them turning their heads to look at me like I’m crazy for yelling and
fluttering around them like a mother hen.
“Calm down, Til. We do this all the time. No one ever threw you up in the air?” Tey questions me, setting Arthur down on
the driveway when he sees my worried expression.
I can’t help but think the kid will end up in space with how high Tey was throwing him. Or break all his bones if he falls.
“Maybe don’t toss kids around me like you're juggling them. Okay?” I choke out, watching as Arthur gives me a weird look
as if I’m the crazy one, just before he takes off to run into the backyard.
“I promise not to throw kids around you anymore, precious,” Tey coos, leading me into the house while rubbing my back in
soothing circles.
I squint my eyes at him, noticing he didn’t mention he wouldn’t throw kids even if I wasn't around him. Smooth and easy
words come off his tongue like silk. I can pretend I didn’t know I was being lied to for peace of mind and all that jazz.
“Fucker,” I hiss out of the corner of my mouth and pinch his side, hiding my own grin as he chuckles under his breath with a
shrug.
Rolling my eyes, I look away to hide my amusement and take in the room we are standing in. Faded orange carpet that kind
of smells a little like mildew covers the living room flooring, but at least it looks somewhat clean. I glance around, taking in
the ninety’s furniture and the peeling wallpaper in the dining room that I can see through a doorway. It's a small home, but it
doesn’t seem too bad. I’ve seen a lot worse. Two kids are playing a video game as they shove each other on the couch while
yelling at the screen. The preteens completely ignore Tey and me as he leads me through a swinging wooden door into a
kitchen.
Instantly, the smell of cigarettes and spoiled milk hits my nostrils, and my gaze snags on the baby bottles littering the
counter. As for the smoke, it’s coming from the woman sitting at the kitchen table, muttering under her breath as a cigarette
dangles from her mouth. She ignores the whimpering baby in the high chair, focusing on the quarter she’s using for a scratch-off.
Tey tenses next to me, his arm dropping from my back as he stalks forward on silent feet towards the older woman. I watch
as he reaches behind his back, his shirt rising up to show the glint of his knife as he pulls it out of his belt with a quiet slick. I
cross my arms and lean back against a counter to watch the show. The lady doesn’t even know the danger she’s about to find
herself in. It’s like watching a snake move silently and stealthily. If you suddenly move too quickly, it will strike viciously and
fatally. Tey is at the stage of watching her with his head tilted to the side, a few steps away. Studying her.
I huff quietly under my breath, wondering if I need to search for a body bag around here. There's probably one in Tey’s
room, no doubt, but I wasn’t really looking forward to helping him hide a body today.
Oh well. Beggars can’t be choosers.
“Gloria,” Tey says in a low voice, causing goosebumps to break out over my skin and causing Gloria to jump in her chair
with a yelp. “Tell me you haven’t been ignoring Izzy for a scratch-off you’ll never win.”
Menacing.
That’s the energy currently surrounding Tey.
“N-No. I was, uh, just about to feed her.” Gloria bangs her shin against the table as she quickly stands up, her cigarette
hanging from her mouth, until she notices Tey glaring at her. “I just lit it; I’ll put it out. It's bad for kids to be around, ya know? I
really have to quit.” She fumbles with her hands and puts out her cigarette, which is clearly half-smoked already, as she dumps
it in her glass of water.
“Don’t bother.” Tey swirls his knife between his knuckles, walking around the kitchen with a look of disgust at the dirty
dishes lining the counter and the empty fridge as he pulls the door open. “Go to the grocery store before I decide to stuff your
body in the fridge instead.”
She was already inching towards the kitchen door when he started walking around, and by the time he closed the fridge, the
kitchen door was flopping back and forth.
“I’ve never seen someone run so fast. Is this a recurring thing?” I state this, gesturing around the kitchen with a frown as I
walk towards the baby.
Hell.
I would have helped him stuff Gloria in the fridge. I have an eye for seeing the bullshit and bad in people; she obviously
doesn’t give a shit about the kids. Maybe it’s all for the paycheck for her, but then again, what do I know? This house is
probably a lot better than most places; some foster parents shouldn’t be allowed near children, much less take care of them.
“Yeah,” Tey mutters darkly, his brows furrowed as he stares at me while I gently grab the baby out of her highchair and
rock her side to side until her little whimpers quiet down. “That's why I haven’t left. If I’m not here looking out for them, who
will?”
“I hate this so much. How can anyone ignore this little cute chunkster?” I coo at the baby, smiling as her wide eyes slowly
blink as she stares up at me like she’s wondering who the hell I am.
Tey groans out loud. My gaze looks up from the baby to see him leaning forward over the counter as he grips the edges until
his knuckles are white. He stares at me unnervingly, not even blinking, and it starts to make me nervous. What is going on in his
head?
He clears his throat and reaches for the baby bottle sitting next to the sink, checking the temperature while still staring at
me. He nods his head to the left, indicating that I should follow him as he walks out of the kitchen. I glance down at the baby
with a wary look, wondering if we should make a break for it. Whenever Tey gets quiet and has that special twinkle in his blue
eyes, crazy shit is about to go down.
“Tillie, come here. Bring Izzy.” Tey calls from somewhere that sounds like the back of the house.
“Izzy. That’s such a cute name, cutie pie.” I make silly faces at baby Izzy as I follow where I think his voice came from.
The baby doesn’t even know I’m sweating bullets over here because Tey hardly ever uses my name. I walk past the living
room, where the kids are still playing a video game, and see a dark hallway off to the left. I figure that’s where he went. His
head peeks out of a doorway near the end of the hall before he disappears. Stopping at the threshold, my gaze bounces around,
trying to take everything about Tey’s room in at once.
I was expecting medieval torture devices as decor and maybe a naked chick poster here and there... I was way off. His
bedding is a blue comforter with a brown nightstand and a lamp next to his left bedside. That’s the most normal thing in here.
The walls… Dear God. The walls!
Unicorn and rainbow posters line his walls. He even has a poster of a rainbow with a cat riding on the unicorn's back. It’s
very, um, Tey.
“I like what you did with the place,” I choke out, avoiding looking at the windows at all costs because I’ll lose it if I see
the pink, glittery curtains up close.
“Thanks, babe. Really makes the place bright, the creme de la creme.” His facial expression is so serious that I know he’s
not joking.
He’s lucky I love him and his love for mystical creatures.
“Want me to feed her?” I gesture towards the bottle in his hand, changing the subject before he tries to tell me he’s going to
be in charge of decorating our future home.
“Naw. Hand her here. I love feeding the lil stinker. She gets this dreamy, peaceful look on her face. Plus, she doesn’t know
the horrible ways of the world yet. Completely innocent.”
My heart cracks open at his words, wondering how old he was when he first learned that life isn't all rainbows and
gumdrops. I eye his room more curiously after I hand Izzy over to him, placing myself in his shoes. I think I can appreciate his
decorating, trying to keep life bright and silly in his safe space. I’ll have to sit the guys down before we find our forever home
because they won’t get to make one peep over Tey’s love for unicorn decorating. I guess I’m going to hand the interior design
plans to him if it makes him feel at peace in his own home.
My gaze snaps over to him as he softly sings to the baby, something about a knife and slicing. His black shirt strains against
his biceps as he cradles her in his arms, swaying from side to side. I love seeing his dangerous, big hands holding her little
head so carefully as she sucks away happily at her bottle while staring up at Tey with a content look. I must have gasped or
moaned. I don’t fucking know or care. I’m so turned on right now that I’m surprised the wetness pooling between my thighs
isn’t sliding down my legs.
“You've got a little bit of drool, peaches." Tey smirks knowingly, leaning forward to swipe his thumb over the corner of my
mouth.
I would deny it and be embarrassed, but seeing him hold the baby distracts me enough not to care. Sharing his safe space
with me while cradling the cute baby with his big bicep and holding her so gently is making me almost dizzy. Seeing him caring
for the foster kids and wanting the best for them warms my heart. It also makes my ovaries explode, making my temperature
rise with the need to demand Tey put a baby in me. Little Teys running around, causing chaos. They might turn out to be cute
little psychos like their daddy, but I wouldn't have it any other way.
"Tey?" I croak out, feeling flushed.
"Yes, precious?" He's glancing down at baby Izzy, but he whips his head up so fast at my next words that I'm afraid he's got
whiplash.
"I wonder if our children will have your eyes or mine?" I hum in thought, biting my lip to contain my giggle as he mouths
the word fuck as he stares at me with wide, excited, bright blue eyes.
"Don't tease me, Tillie," he says so seriously all of a sudden. "I'll put a baby in you so fast, awake or sleeping. My cum is
the only thing you'll feel between those juicy thighs until you're pregnant, and then I'll do it all over again for baby number
two."
My legs actually tremble, and I feel fucking weak in the knees.
Must. Remember. Now. Is. Not. The. Time. For. Kids.
“Shit.” Tey’s face is set in stone, his pupils dilating as he storms out of the room with the baby without another word.
I stand there next to his bed, shaking my head to clear it, wondering if I should have followed him.
“I want your panties off and your ankles by your ears. Now. Don’t make me repeat myself. You have two seconds to get into
position so I can devour this fucking pussy.” Tey’s voice in my ear makes me jump, choking on a gasp as I spin around to see
him standing not even an inch away without the baby.
“W-What happened to Izzy?” I ask with a slight quiver in my voice as I stare at his empty hands.
“She’s with Gloria. I threatened Gloria that I'd cut her up in tiny pieces and feed her scraps to the hungry stray dogs around
the neighborhood if she didn’t take care of the baby,” he says with a shrug and then suddenly moves quicker than I can follow.
His big hand curls around my throat, making me gasp in surprise. “Do I need to repeat myself, Peaches? Believe me when I say
you don’t want me to because I’ll have to edge you for hours by licking this gorgeous pussy,” he emphasizes by squeezing my
throat hard enough that my breath cuts off.
I flood my underwear, wondering if he’ll choke me until I pass out? Will he continue to eat me out even if I’m not
conscious? What does that say about me when he squeezes my throat in a rhythm with the opening and closing of his hand, and
my pussy matches the beat?
I need more of his crazy.
“Ca-Can you use your knife?” I gulp around his hand, my gaze burning into his as my body shivers in excitement under the
pressure he adds with each word out of my mouth.
“Fuck. You know I can’t say no to you, my little snickerdoodle.” Tey applies pressure with a deep, dark chuckle escaping
him, leaning over me as I fall back on his bed with him towering over me.
He stares at me for a second without blinking, his one arm bulging with muscles as he holds his body up over mine while
he chokes me out with his other hand. I know he’s holding back because out of the corner of my eye, I see his fist near my head
clench his bedspread.
“Do it,” I rasp out with noticeable excitement and desire.
I can’t help grasping his wrist until my fingers are gliding up to his knuckles, encouraging him to squeeze tighter.
“You kill me in the most beautiful way, Tillie.” His thumb and index tighten to the point black dots fill my vision, his face
fading in and out until I can see his bright blue eyes. “Don’t move.”
Gasping for breath and coughing with an inhale of air once he lets go of me, I watch him push up until he’s kneeling
between my spread thighs with a wicked smile curving his perfect, sculpted lips. He reaches into his right boot and pulls out
his knife, which reflects the sunlight coming in from his bedroom window. I’ve seen him polish his knife at the kitchen table for
hours and talk to the shiny metal as if it’s a person. Even though I asked for this, I can’t help gulping loudly as he drags the tip
of the blade down the column of my throat as I arch my neck back. I trust him completely, but it’s still scary as fuck, yet oddly
exhilarating.
Hot.
At this rate, I should stop wearing underwear because they are constantly soaking wet.
I squirm as he draws his knife back and forth, oh so slowly, across my collarbone and down between my breasts. It almost
tickles until he nics me on purpose, breaking through my skin and drawing a straight line of blood across my left breast.
“So pretty. I want to mark you so badly it physically hurts not to see my cuts on your skin like a map.” He bends down, his
blonde hair tickling my neck as his long, smooth tongue licks the blood away as I stare up at the ceiling, moaning.
“Shh. You need to be quiet, or I’ll stop. It’s been my dream to see you in my bed, Sweet Cherry. Don’t make a sound.” I tilt
my head down, my gaze clashing with his as he stares up at me between my breasts with bloody lips.
He licks his bottom lip, skimming over the hoop piercing on the right side of his mouth. My chest heaves, knowing I’m
going to be feeling his lip ring and tongue piercing really fucking soon.
“Please,” I whisper with a whimper as he places his knife between his teeth. He then crawls backwards on his knees while
staring at me the whole time until his thighs brush against my feet.
Without a word, he starts dragging my pants and underwear down my legs until they are tangled at my ankles as my thighs
open until my knees are touching the bed covering. I’m spread open like a butterfly and to his hungry gaze as he bites down on
his knife until blood starts welling at the corners of his mouth. My legs are already shaking, and he hasn’t even put his mouth on
my pussy yet.
I’m desperate for him. So wholly and utterly desperate that I’d do anything for him just so I can feel his mouth on me. I
watch, transfixed, as he pulls his knife away from his mouth and glides the smooth metal flat up the inside of my thigh. Red
starts to seep from a thin line with just the barest hint of pain.
I hiss through my teeth and fist the sheets as I try not to move a muscle as he circles the tip of his blade on my pelvic bone.
He’s toying with me. That evil, pleased glint in his eyes says as much, but at least I’m not the only one affected. His pupils are
blown so wide that it’s almost hard to see the bright ring of blue. I stop breathing altogether as he swirls his knife between his
fingers so fast, and the hilt suddenly slides through my wetness over my labia, the handle glistening with my juices seeping out
of my pussy. He grins in delight, his gaze staring so intently between my legs as he circles the hilt at my entrance and slowly
inserts it half an inch before pulling away. We both watch the handle leave my pussy as he holds it up with a groan, a string of
my arousal sticky as it hangs from between my thighs and his knife. His fist grips the curved edge of his blade as blood starts
dripping out of the creases of his knuckles and right over my pussy.
“Fuck. Look at this mess, baby.” Tey groans deeply in the back of his throat again, his fingers sweeping over my pussy,
collecting the wetness between us and smearing it over the handle of the knife as if he’s stroking his cock. “You're going to
squirt all over my face. In my fucking mouth until I’m almost drowning in you. When I’ve had my thirst satisfied, I’ll spit it into
your mouth as you open wide like the good girl you are for me.”
He states so filthily, my hips lifting up towards him as a needy noise leaves my mouth. His tone is firm, downright wicked,
even as his breathing picks up and his pierced cock bulges in his dark jeans down his thigh. My mouth goes dry, already
imagining how the metal balls on either side of his cock is going to feel rubbing against my inner walls in all the right spots.
“Tey. Fucking eat me! I need to feel your tongue deep inside of me—” I stop talking, my words cut off as he spits right on
my pussy and slowly, so fucking slow, pushes the handle into me without giving me a warning.
 I’m a rambling mess and can hardly think straight as all my thoughts are consumed by him and the pleasure he’s about to
give me. My breath stalls in the back of my throat as I arch my head back. He twists his knife in a tight grip as his blood mixes
with the wetness leaking out of me like a faucet. I can feel the ridges on the handle each time he pulls it slightly out with a twist
of his wrist and pushes it back in just as fast. It’s painfully slow, drawing out my pleasure to the point tears gather in my eyes. I
don’t move, knowing he can cut me any moment with just a twitch of my leg, yet my pussy is gripping so tight around the hilt as
if to keep it buried deep inside of me.
“You love this, don’t you?” He whispers in awe, looking down as he slides the knife in and out.
I can only moan, the sound echoing off his walls before he slides his other hand up my belly, between my breasts, until his
hand is gripping around my throat like a permanent necklace.
“Shh. Shh. Naughty Tillie. What did I say?” Tey taunts, ramming the handle into me roughly as I gasp for air. He opens his
fist and closes it again before I can even take a deep breath.
My body starts shaking, being that I’m already so close to falling over the edge and soaking his bed sheets. He lets up a
little, pulsing his hand on my throat with an open and close of his fist so I can answer him.
“I’ll be quiet… but only if you make me,” I rasp out faintly with a blissed-out grin spreading over my face as he collars me
again, a deep, devious chuckle leaving his sinful mouth.
“Hail fucking Satan for sending me a soul that matches my own,” Tey whispers as he props his elbow between my spread
thighs as he pumps the knife fast inside me until we can both hear how wet I am.
His hot breath rushes over my sensitive skin, making me shiver just as his long tongue slides out and the shiny metal at the
end of his tongue flicks at my clit at a rapid speed that surprises me.
I would be screaming, but you know, Tey choking me like he might want to kill me.
That’s true love.
“Oh, God. Right there. Right there!” I choke out, my voice barely above a whisper the harder he squeezes my throat as tears
leak down my cheeks.
When Tey really focuses and puts his attention to something, he’s all in. The only sound I can hear is the slurping noises as
he laps me as if I’m his last meal. I glance down at my body and gasp as his eyes flick up towards mine. His mouth is shiny
with my juices while his tongue curls and swirls around the hilt of the knife as it plunges fast in and out of me. He doesn’t seem
to give a fuck how close his face is to the sharp edges of the knife.
“T-Tey,” I whimper as he lets me breathe for a split second before choking me again.
A thin line of blood wells high on his cheekbone as the knife cuts him, and he doesn’t fucking let up. My legs start trembling
as he increases fucking me with the handle and moving his mouth back up to lightly suck on my clit before pulsing his tongue
and starting all over again at a slow pace. Every sensation narrows down to the feel of his plump lips suctioning me, giving
little flicks of the tip of his tongue, and breathing hot breaths that make me tremble until his bed is shaking from my body. He
keeps doing this before suddenly sucking hard on my swollen, sensitive clit and chuckling darkly as my hips lift off the mattress
to ride his face. My stomach clenches as he keeps going from eating me slow to fast every couple of seconds. I can’t see as
tears continue to fill my eyes at how intense the feelings course through me, my toes curling in pleasure as my legs shake so
hard I’m scared I’m accidentally going to move and end up stabbing myself.
“Let go, peaches. Give me all your pleasure because it’s fucking mine,” Tey mutters against my clit as he flicks his tongue
side to side before sucking me back between his wide lips.
He’s done edging me. Fucking finally. He looks up at me as I watch his pierced tongue vibrate and swirl around my clit, the
lower half of his face is covered in my juices. He doesn’t let up even as tears stream down my face or as pressure hits me in
the lower stomach, a tightness that has my back arching off the bed just as I start to come. My pussy grips the handle of the knife
so tightly he can hardly move it out of me. However, he does at the last second as my orgasm hits me hard.
I choke around his hand as he quickly sits back on his knees between my thighs with his hair falling over his forehead, and
we both watch as I squirt all over him. The comforter is soaked beneath my ass, looking like an endless spray while he circles
his thumb over and over my clit.
“Fuck. Yes. Just like that. Get me all wet, baby,” Tey groans quietly, watching with awe and rapid attention between my
shaking legs as my pussy gapes open and closed with more wetness leaking out to soak his shirt and pants.
He releases his hand around my throat just as I felt I was going to pass out. I suck in a deep breath, falling back on the bed
in a daze. He ducks down real quick and curls his tongue inside of me with his whole mouth wide open around my whole
pussy. I jerk and whimper as he crawls up my body.
With a head nod, he taps my chin and I open my mouth on the silent command once he’s hovering over my parted lips. His
jaw mouth back and forth as if he’s swishing something in his mouth just before he spits my cum down my throat. His lips
barely touch mine, but it’s enough that every drop he collected from my pussy fills my wide-open mouth.
“Holy shit,” I rasp once I’ve swallowed, my whole body won’t stop trembling.
“Feel good?” he teases, bringing his knife up to his mouth and sucking the wet handle between his lips until it comes away
clean.
 “I think you're trying to kill me.” I cough, struggling to sit up on my elbows until I can reach his face.
My tongue darts out to lick away the blood from his jaw to the cut on his cheekbone. Copper, a little salty and purely Tey,
coats my taste buds. His eyes are closed with a tiny smirk on his lips as I pull away.
“Not today. You’ll know when I’m trying to kill you,” he says so innocently that I can’t tell if he’s serious or not.
I mean, I’ll take his word for it. If he wanted me dead, I’d be dead. It’s as simple as that. I just have to trust him that today
won’t be the last time I stop breathing.
Maybe tomorrow or the next week, months from now, or years, I just have to live in the moment because I’m never going to
look over my shoulder and wonder if I’ll die today.
 Cruz

I blow out a bored breath as I tip my chair back onto two legs until I’m staring up at the ceiling, wondering what Tillie is
doing right at this moment. Probably fucking one of those fuckers who think they can touch what is mine.
Always been mine. I had been her first.
Well, I wasn’t the one who took her virginity. I let the club members do that so she could see I had all the control. She was
mine to do with what I wanted. I took her virgin ass, though. That painful reminder will stick with her always, along with the
scars as I shoved into her dry asshole. I have dreams of doing it again, over and over, as she cries until her face is a mess with
tears and snot. Wrecking and controlling her is what makes me feel alive, and I’ll never give that up.
Ever.
“Are you listening to a fucking word I’m saying?”
Ah. Yes. The annoying pitter-patter that never stops nagging in my head. All of these people are useless, like ants that
follow the rest of the colony. Their gang turfs and power plays mean nothing to me, but I have an end-game plan that involves
Tillie coming to me, and unfortunately, I need these cunts to get what I want.
“What's your name again?” I roll my neck on my shoulders and slam my chair back down until I’m looking at the fucker in
his muddy brown eyes.
“Franco,” he grits out between his teeth in annoyance as he grips the labels of his suit jacket and straightens it with a flick
of his wrists before crossing his ankle over his knee.
“You're just the muscle around here, right? Why are you at this meeting? Don’t you have somewhere else to be?” I draw out
slowly as if he’s all muscle and no brain just to piss him off.
“Fuck you, you little shit. Do you know who I am?!” Franco starts to turn an ugly shade of red as he stares at me like I give
a shit.
News flash, I don’t care who the fuck he is. I’ll slaughter him like a pig because, in the end, that’s all he is. A pig in the pen
just waiting to head to the butcher.
“Enough!” Jin barks, his lighter flickering open as he puffs on his cigar until it’s lit at the end and circles of smoke escape
his mouth.
“I was at a meeting with the mayor. Get to the point: what’s so important that you needed me here because I have political
hands to shake and babies’ foreheads to kiss.” Franco demands, tapping his fingers on the air of his chair as he stares Jin down.
Very interesting.
I sense a power play here, and I wonder who’s going to make it on the other side. These two don’t trust each other. Anyone
can tell how they try to keep their facial expressions stoic, except the eyes tell a different story.
Mistrust.
Power hungry.
 And my favorite, greed.
These two fuckers are going to be staring down each other’s guns at some point, and I can’t wait to see how much of a
bloodbath it’s going to be.
Things just got interesting. Maybe I won’t have to kill them; I can watch from the sidelines as they destroy themselves.
“What’s so important is that we’ve been double-crossed.” Jin tries to appear calm as if he’s not worried, but I see
everything.
His stiff shoulders, the way his other hand is clenched on top of his desk, and the firm line of his mouth.
These people worry about their money, drugs, and power. I don’t care about any of that. The only thing I want is Tillie. To
possess her every waking moment, keep her locked in a tight cage as I use her body over and over again until her eyes become
vacant and I’m all she can see. I can’t wait to carve my name all over her skin so that in any direction she turns, I’ll see my
initials deeply engraved on her flesh no matter what.
“Who?” Franco asks tightly as a bead of sweat collects on his temple while he leans forward in his seat.
My gaze snaps down to his hand as his fingers sneak into the waistband of his pants for his gun that’s tucked into the right
corner.
I bite my lip to keep from smiling as I get comfortable in my chair. Franco looks a tad nervous, which only proves my point
that he’s sneaking around behind Jin’s back. My guess is probably moving money around and planning on taking over the whole
operation they have going together.
“My children were spotted leaving Dom’s residence by my men,” Jin grinds out, his fist gripping his cigar so hard it breaks
in half.
Franco scoffs under his breath and relaxes back in his seat.
“I’m not surprised. Nicholas has never fallen in line, has he?” Franco rubs a hand over his mouth, trying to hide his
satisfied smirk yet falling miserable.
Jin isn’t a foul. His eyes spark in anger, and he sets down his cigar in the ashtray as he gives Franco his full attention.
“It would seem both our children could never fall in line as you say. I have already disowned my children and taken Nicola
as leverage for Nicholas to come willingly to me. What will you do to get Logan to obey?” Jin props his feet on his desk and
staples his fingers under his chin while he stares down Franco with a pleased expression.
“No. My son would never disrespect me. He wouldn’t…Fuck!” The fool next to me huffs out labored breaths, gripping the
arms of his chair until his knuckles are white.
I’m actually having a good time. I was getting bored, however this has taken a pleasant turn of events.
“I would suggest turning Logan to our side or getting rid of him. We don’t have time for these, shall we say, hiccups. I want
respect. If he stays, I want proven loyalty,” Jin stares Franco down, waiting until he gets a silent agreement in return with one
single nod.
“Good. I want the girl gone, though. She’s a weakness and corrupted our sons.” Jin addressed me this time with a raised
eyebrow.
I can’t help the pleased grin that spreads across my face.
“I have her wrapped around my finger. She won’t be a problem.” I pat my leather vest pocket, feeling the photo and finger
inside.
“She better not,” Jin warns me, making me clench my teeth as my finger twitches to reach for my gun.
No one threatens me.
“I’ll keep you updated. I have the judge coming over in a couple hours for dinner. Logan and Tillie will be there. I’ll have
your evidence by tonight where my son stands.” Franco announces tightly and stands up, buttoning his suit jacket before striding
towards the door.
“Hey, Chief.” I sing out just as he opens the door.
His shoulders stiffen further under his fancy suit before he turns around to look at me with narrowed brown eyes.
“Yes?” He grinds out, his left eye twitching as I don’t say anything for a minute and take my time reaching into my breast
pocket.
“Give this is Tillie, will ya? And please let her know I’ll be expecting an answer in two days.” I toss the bundled gift with
a thin, red ribbon tied around it and watch a look of disgust cross his face as he catches it one-handed out of the air.
He gazes at the photo for a split second and holds it up to the light as he turns the bloody finger around to see the ring that’s
just past the knuckle.
A signature of the Demon Jokers is engraved on the shiny metal. Only one man ever wore that ring. Tillie will know right
away who it belongs to.
“That is all.” I feel giddy from the way his whole face flushes red at how I dismiss him.
He’ll learn his place. I’m so far out of his reach, that he’s just a speck compared to me. I’ll kill him without remorse and
sleep like a baby, never to think of him again. I wave my fingers at him as my grin slides off my face as he puts my gift away in
his pants pocket and a smirk slowly spreads across his mouth.
 “I’ll make sure she gets it.” He sounds like he means more than just my gifts, which has my breathing pick up as rage
consumes me, “You know, I get what all the fuss is about. Her tight, pink pussy tastes like pure honey and fucking sunshine as
she comes on my tongue… heaven. Gentlemen,” he says cockily as he turns and walks away, waving arrogantly over his
shoulder.
What. The. Fuck.
“What did he just- he fucked Tillie?” I’m seething and can feel the vein on my forehead throb.
“I wouldn’t say he fucked her, more like he devoured her pussy like a starving man. From my understanding, Payne made
him when he came to visit, though I don’t think Franco put up much of a fight. Don’t worry about it, Franco is… a man
consumed by grief and sees things that aren’t really there. Like his dead wife.” Jin waves his hand in the air, dismissing the
subject before calling his men into the room.
I don’t move a muscle. I’m still staring at the doorway and developing a plan.
He touched… tasted her sweet pussy… took something of mine.
I was just going to take Tillie once she fell into my arms willingly, but now… I think I’ll have to make a brief detour. Kill
all the men who have touched her and stared at her naked body. I’ll start with Franco. He will regret ever thinking he could
taste her honey when it’s been mine all along.
My knife will plunge into his chest cavity over and over again until I’m tearing through flesh, tendons, and muscles. Until I
can see his ribcage holding his heart. I’ll carve my name into the beating organ and rip it out so that’s the last thing he sees.
No one takes what’s mine away from me. No one threatens me.
I’ll end them all, and as I’m staining my hands red with their blood, Tillie won’t be able to do anything. I have her right
where I want her.
 Logan

I stand on Dom’s back patio. I take in the tan sandstone under my feet, the glistening pool of salt water, and the view of
the ocean beyond that. There’s a wooden arch over my head that covers half the patio with hanging greenery along with
blooming bright flowers. A long table and chairs cover the other half of the patio, next to a massive brick fireplace.
Bright red and pink flowers with flowing green vines crawl along the walls, through the beams, and leave a sweet, earthly
fragrance behind as I take a deep breath.
I won’t ever admit it, but Dom has some good taste. It’s like the outside world doesn’t exist here; it’s just an open view of
the ocean with gentle waves lapping at the sandy shore. As if we aren’t in California, surrendered by crime from all sides the
minute you step outside in the front. I like it back here. It’s a false sense of belief that everything can be calm as long as you
don’t turn around.
“It’s lovely, yes?” The soft, calm voice behind me catches me by surprise as I watch the figure of a woman stop at my side.
“You have a beautiful home,” I grumble, seeking a glance at Dom’s grandma as she sets a tray of iced lemonade and limes
floating in the glasses.
“Si. Gracias. My grandbaby has been taking care of me for a long time, even when I begged him not to. A child shouldn’t
have so many responsibilities at such a young age. When he asked me to move in, I took the guest house to give him privacy
since he’s a young man who shouldn’t have a hovering grandma around all the time. Would you like some sweet limonada?”
Isabella gestures towards the tray and scoffs as I remain frozen in my spot before she shoves a glass in my hand.
“Thanks.” I croak out, sipping the cooling drink, and I'm damn glad I have my sunglasses on so she can’t look into my eyes
and see how uncomfortable I am.
I don’t understand why she’s being so nice to me. Unless she doesn’t know that Franco killed her son? Jesus.
“My Dom is a lot like you, you know? Both of you are strong-headed, stubborn, and grew up without a loving father.” She
gazes at me, quickening an eyebrow as I sputter on the sip I just took.
“You know?” I rasp, setting my drink down and glaring at the stone squares beneath my feet.
I feel uncomfortable in my own clothing, itchy as if bugs are crawling over my skin. Everything feels too tight. I unloop the
buttons of my long white button-up shirt and uncuff the sleeves.
“And I don’t blame you. You were just a child with the world on your shoulders,” she says, placing her hand on my
shoulder with a small pat. “You aren’t responsible for another man's actions. Life has dealt you unfair cards, and I’m sorry for
that.”
My head snaps up, I’m completely speechless.
“I- I’m not sure what to say.” I clear my throat, glancing around, and sigh with relief as Tillie walks out onto the patio from
the French doors of the kitchen.
“Nothing to say. Just don’t apologize to me unless you are the man who committed unforgivable actions. Also, don’t let that
one get away. She’s a keeper.” Isabella pats and kisses my cheek as she stands on her toes while pulling me down to her short
height.
She walks away, mumbling something to Tillie about needing to eat more as she passes her. I don’t move; I'm still hunched
over in disbelief. Is it really that simple? To move on when all you do is feel responsible for everyone, even if you didn't pull
the trigger?
"Are you okay, Lo?” Tillie hesitantly asks as she wraps her arms around my neck and smiles at me.
God. She really covers me in sunshine and warmth every time she’s around. I soak it up even when I feel I don’t deserve
her.
“I’m fine, baby girl. Did you have a good day with Tey?” I ask with a shake of my head as I smooth her wild, wind-blown
hair back from her forehead with my palm and continue to do so as a blissful grin spreads across her face and her eyes slowly
close.
“It was… everything. I met all the kids Tey helps take care of and may have promised to have his children. I think he
thought right now, so maybe you guys can talk some sense into him for me before I end up pregnant by next month.” She hums
under her breath, at peace, as I sway us back and forth while laying my head on top of hers to hide my grin.
If she thinks I can talk sense into Tey, then she honestly doesn’t acknowledge that she’s jumped off the deep end with him by
starting the ball rolling on the baby express.
“Don’t let him near any sort of birth control. I wouldn’t be surprised if he starts tracking when you're ovulating. He’s
always wanted to have children.” I chuckle as she groans out loud and places her hands on my chest to look up at me, putting
space between us.
“This is all my fault. It’s like, I can’t say no to him. I want kids one day, but not now. You’ll have to talk me off the baby-
making ledge.” She stares at me with her head tilted and bites her lush bottom lip. “Do you want children one day?”
I can feel my body tense up, and I know she takes it the wrong way when she drops her arms and steps back. I grab her
wrists quickly and place them back on my chest, over my pounding heart, so she can’t get away.
“I never thought about it, honestly. I’m not sure… if I would be a good father. I haven’t had the best role model in that
department.” I wince, tilting my head up and squinting as the sun blinds me and I blow out a breath. “It scares me too. You talk
about me being in your future, and I’m afraid I’ll fuck it up one day.”
She doesn’t say anything for a minute, and I have to glance back down to see her expression because I can’t handle the
quiet.
“For a man who’s so smart, sometimes you're an idiot. Lo…” She takes a deep breath and moves closer until the heat from
her body warms me. “You and me, we are forever. I know you’ll fuck up in the near future, but so will I. We are in this
together.”
I bend down and crush my lips against hers, devouring her mouth with every flick of my tongue against hers. I know my grip
is bruising her wrist, but I can’t let go. I need her always, like I’m sinking in quicksand and she’s my only lifeline to pull me
free. If she isn’t plastered to my side constantly, I start freaking the fuck out and then comes the disturbing thoughts I’m going to
lose her. Tilting my head, I take her bottom, plump lip between my teeth with a deep growl as I tug before smoothing my tongue
along her bruised lip. She whimpers needily as I pull away, trying to memorize the way her eyes are softly closed and her red
lips are still parted and swollen from my kisses.
“Kiss me like that, and you’ll never get rid of me,” she teases, still a little breathless, as she opens her eyes and smiles.
“Always, baby girl,” I promise in a husky voice.
“Also. Fuck Franco. You aren’t him. Never were. We will all remind you of that every day. All of us. For what it’s worth,
and you might not think it now, I know you would make an amazing father,” she says tenderly, tugging gently on her wrists until I
lighten my hold so she can frame my face between her soft palms.
I haven’t let go of her yet. Just a little bit longer.
“Yes.” Tey’s voice hisses in excitement beside us like a fucking snake, making us both jump from being startled.
“Tey! No!” Tillie groans in defeat as her head rests against my pecs, and Tey slides up behind and rocks them side to side
as his arms slide around her waist.
“Oh yes. It’s happening. Logan is aboard the baby train, too. Oh fuck! That’s how we can get you pregnant, so we don’t
wonder who the father is. We can line up like a train and impale you on our fat cocks.” He shuts up instantly as Nicky appears
out of fucking nowhere and smacks the back of Tey’s head.
“Bad Tey. You will respect Tillie’s wishes and wait to get her pregnant with little Tey’s. Although I like the sound of this
train idea, you know I’m a top. I like the idea of you fucking our girl while I fuck you.” Nicky closes his arms around Tey’s
upper chest and low on his stomach before he tries to jump us in a tackle hug.
Tey doesn’t look upset, though, as he stares at Tillie with darkening eyes and bites his lip, playing with his piercing.
“I’ll be a bottom anytime. Need me to bend over? I’m your guy. Have a sudden need to dominate some ass, I’m your fucking
guy.” Tey chokes on a gasp mixed with a moan as Nicky shuts him up by biting the meaty flesh between his neck and shoulder.
“Shut up. You sound too eager, and that just won’t do. When I finally claim your ass, I’m going to edge you for hours until
you are shouting to cum. That’s what you get for teasing me.” Nicky doesn’t even try to be quiet as he tortures Tey, sending
Tillie a wink as she turns around in my arms to watch them and grinds on my dick with her luscious ass.
“That turned you on, baby girl?” I whisper, licking the shell of her ear and nibbling on the sensitive flesh until her head
falls back on my shoulder with a lusty moan.
“That’s one of my favorite sounds, mama. I have plans for us later tonight to hear what else comes out of that mouth.” Dom
says this from the open patio doors, taking in the scene of sexual tension with a sly smirk. “Unfortunately, we have other places
to be. Nicky, Tey. We’ll meet you guys at Dalton’s after dinner.”
“Why are we heading to the club?” Tillie asks Dom, her voice laced with confusion.
“It’s fight night, pet.” Nicky smiles slowly against Tey’s neck, not taking his gaze off our girl. She can’t seem to look away
either, as if she’s in a trance.
Smooth fucker.
“Fight night?” She finally asks, looking at all of us and tipping her head back to gaze up at me upside down.
“You’ll see. Are you ready to go?” I ask, rubbing her arms, loving the difference in how my hands are calloused, and she’s
soft as silk even over the bumps of her scars.
“Will I ever be ready for this?” She blows out of breath, reluctantly leaving my arms. “Let’s get this over with.”
That’s my girl.
“Don’t forget the cooler I set in the trunk for dinner. I took my time making that arrangement, and I hope they like the
flowers. Now come give me a kiss, muffin.” Tey makes kissy faces at her and taps his cheek while turning his head to the side.
“Let’s go.” I sigh and put my hands in my pocket as I watch her glide over to Nicky and Tey with a giggle.
She kisses them both on the cheeks, stands on her toes, and whispers something to Nicky that has Tey groaning with a pout.
“I’ll make sure,” Nicky promises, his finger sliding over her necklace, which he gives a slight tug before it drops back
between her breasts.
I nod when he looks at me over her head with a frown as she walks over to Dom and places herself right under his raised
arm for her to cuddle into his side as they disappear into the house.
“Don’t worry. She’ll be safe with us. The tracker is still working." I glance towards the doors again to ensure Tillie can’t
hear as I question Nicky about the tracking device he put in the necklace.
"I checked it this morning. It’s working. I just don’t like this. My gut is telling me something isn’t right.” Nicky takes his
arms off Tey and runs a hand through his shoulder-length hair in frustration. “I’m probably just being paranoid. Just check in
with me, okay?"
Tey turns and stands beside me with his pointer finger framing his chin as he looks Nicky up and down with concern.
“What is it?” He asks as my gaze shifts between them. My shoulders are tense as I wait for Nicky to spill whatever is
bothering him.
“I don’t know. Maybe I’m just stressed; this could all blow up in our faces. We have so much to lose.” Nicky stares at Tey,
and I think that’s the most open expression I’ve ever seen from him, not hiding behind high walls as he looks at him with love.
“And we’ll get through it together. Whatever comes our way, mayhem, murder, or bloodbaths, you have all of us right here
by your side,” Tey replies back so seriously, all humor gone, and a dark look in his eyes as he mentions murder. As if he dares
anyone to come after those he loves.
“For once… I’m not worried. This feels right. It’s time our fathers were taken down and Tillie got her revenge. I’ll see you
guys tonight.” I pat Nicky on the shoulder as I move around him and hear Tey just as I head past the patio doors into the kitchen.
“You know what? I’ll get my unicorn, and you can use my mouth however we please. Sound good? Oh, and call Nicola and
her boyfriend; you know she won’t want to miss fight night. I love my bloodthirsty little sister.”
Leave it to Tey to think of everything to relieve stress, even when it sounds crazy.
I lied to them both just now, though. I didn’t want them worrying even more than they already were. I’m fucking terrified
that I’m going to lose one of them through all this chaos we are about to create.
I have to be strong.
The leader.
I protect what’s mine, no matter what.
 Nicky

I rub the back of my neck and roll my shoulders, hating this feeling of something going wrong. I just want everyone I care
about to be within my sight. It’s slowly driving me crazy; I feel like thousands of ants are crawling all over my skin
every waking hour. I know I’m overthinking, but I can’t shut it off. I need control, and it’s almost slipping through my
fingers like butter.
Breathe in and out. You feel nothing. Control. Control.
My eyes drifted closed at some point as I tipped my head back and let the California sun soak into my pale skin, warming
me until my head stopped feeling like it was spinning on my shoulders.
“Come with me,” Tey demands in a stern voice he never uses with me, a tinge of worry seeping through, and I hate that he’s
seeing me this way.
I turn away from the sunshine and look into his blue eyes that draw me in every time; it’s like staring into snowflakes falling
from a cold winter day with blue skies.
Tey doesn’t expect a response; he just grabs my hand to twine our fingers together and pulls me into the house with a
determined expression as his sharp jawline tenses. He leads us through the hallways, not saying a word, and stomps into Dom’s
master suite with a dramatic bang of the door shutting behind us. I can only stare wide-eyed and watch him in astonishment as
he paces back and forth like a caged lion. I’ve never seen him like this.
“Tey?” I ask, clearing my throat as he practically wears a hole in the carpet, and it’s like he doesn’t hear me. “Tey!”
My shout echoes off the walls, stopping his pacing in the middle of the room to glare at me.
“Shut up. Sit the fuck down,” he whispers, even though his tone has a dangerous edge that has me grinding my teeth in anger
and turning me on at the same time.
It seems he’s forgotten who’s in charge of this relationship. I give the orders, and he follows because it’s what I need to
feel in control. Plus, he loves being submissive, but only towards me. No one else.
“You're testing my restraint, Tey. Come here.” I exhale through my nose, feeling my shoulders relax as a sense of calm
washes over me when he continues to glare but steps closer until the tip of his boots almost touches my shiny black shoes.
“I swear to god, Nicholas, if I see you shutting down one more time and trying to hide it... I’ll lose my mind. You aren’t
alone in this, and you never will be again. If you need an outlet, great, take it out on me, but no hiding. We are here for you, so
when you feel yourself spiraling, unleash your control on me or Tillie. We can take it. Just don’t disappear on us.” Tey pokes
my chest, empathizing with his point with each word as he shouts in my face.
His chest heaves for a minute as he glares at me, setting my blood on fire.
“Are you done?” I ask, raising an eyebrow.
“Fuck you. And yeah, I’m done.” Tey nervously plays with his metal hoop piercing with the tip of his tongue as I stare
stonily at him, knowing he’s questioning what my next move will be.
 “Good. Now get on your knees, take off your shirt, and unbuckle my belt.” My voice comes out smooth, low-pitched with a
sharp edge.
It means I’m not fucking messing around, and he knows it as his breath catches in the back of his throat at my demanding
tone.
Seconds tick by as we stare at each other until he slowly lowers himself to his knees at my feet while fisting the back of his
shirt to pull it over his head in one smooth motion. I look down at him and have never seen a more devastating view. He’s
fucking perfect, with his chin tipped back, defined veins throbbing on his throat as he swallows hard, as the silence intensifies.
He doesn’t know what I’ll do to him for being a fucking brat. My mouth waters to mark him, to sink my teeth in the fleshy,
muscular part of his neck that meets his shoulder. I want to bruise him and let everyone see who he belongs to. Even though my
name and Tillie’s are on the collar he wears, it’s not enough. I want something permanent so that he'll remember me every time
he looks in the mirror.
“Do I need to repeat myself?” I ask in a throaty tone, reaching out to trail my thumb over his bottom lip.
“No… sir.” He smirks up at me, seeing my pupils blow wide as heat engulfs me with the obedience in that one word.
Sir.
He’ll pay for that. He knows what that does to me.
He’s being a brat. My hard cock is painfully pressing against my zipper, wanting free so I can fuck his ass until he can’t
even sit down without grimacing from a burning asshole.
With great care, Tey reaches forward and clasps my belt buckle. Pulling the leather out of the hole painfully slowly and
sliding it out of the metal, he starts to grab my pants button, but I stop him with my hand over his before he can get any farther.
“So eager, yet you can’t follow my rules. Do you think you deserve an award?” Tey whimpers at the low mummer of my
voice, his teeth biting lightly at my thumb before I pull away.
“Punish me. I want you to hurt me. Show me how much you love me.” Tey stares up at me with blue eyes turning dark with
desire.
He’s always had a high pain tolerance, but I’ll show him that the kind of pain I inflict is something he’ll always remember.
It’s a good kind of torture that has you begging for more.
“Oh, pet. I do love how desperate you are for my cock. Put your hands up and together.” I command, almost daring him to
disobey me so I can whip his ass red.
I see the glint in his eyes, the slight hesitation as he raises his arms with his elbows bent, hands together like a prayer, and
his fingertips skimming the waistline of my pants. Body practically trembling with anticipation, he watches my every move like
a hawk and gasps as I reach for my belt. The quiet swoosh of the leather slipping through the loops of my pants ends with a
loud crack when I fold the belt and snap it against my palm.
“Shit.” Tey shudders, his thigh muscles straining from his kneeling position.
I don’t say anything as I grasp his forearms, running my thumb back and forth over the blue veins running down to his hands.
Without looking away from his gaze, I wrap the leather belt around his thick wrists and tighten until I’m pleased enough that he
can’t escape. Seeing him kneeling at my feet, his blue eyes looking up at me as if I’m someone he wants to worship and pray to,
makes my whole body and mind less scattered.
This is my happy place. Right here. Being in charge and yet knowing that I can trust him to tell me to stop if I lose control.
He grounds me.
“I’m your god, Tey. The name you're going to chant over and over again. But before I hear you shouting my name, I want
you to be a good boy and open your mouth fucking wide so the only thing I hear is the wet gurgle of you choking on my cock as
I fuck your throat.”
“Oh god,” he rasps out, his crystal blue eyes widening as he watches me pull my hard cock out of my pants, fisting myself
and slowly stroking up and down until pre cum is leaking out of my tip to coat my fingers.
“Part those pretty lips, now,” I demand, groaning as he opens his mouth and sticks his long tongue out, licking up a drop of
pre cum before it slides down my length. “Good boy. Keep going. Don’t let any go to waste.”
Eagerly, he leans forward farther and licks up the curve of my cock from base to tip until he is lapping at all the wet, sticky
cream dripping out with hungry noises escaping his throat. My cock throbs, pulsing and leaking at the tip that it almost feels
like small aftershocks of an orgasm.
“Suck,” I command, my voice deepening as pleasure tingles down my spine from watching him suck me into his wide
mouth and hollowing his cheeks. “Oh, fuck.”
He winks at me, his gaze not leaving mine as he loosens his jaw more, and I watch my cock start to disappear into his
mouth. He wants me to lose control, winking at me with a knowing look.
Fucking brat. I’m going to beat his ass red for thinking he’s the one in charge here.
Without warning, I thrust my hips forward and feel my cock slide deeper into his mouth until the tip of my cock is down his
throat. He chokes. Eyes wide and watering, he breathes heavily as I reach out and fist locks of his blonde hair to hold him still.
Counting to five silently, I watch as drool slips down his chin, and he gurgles when I push in more until his nose is grazing my
public bone. I release him after counting, let him draw in a deep breath, and pull him by his hair as I slide my hard, thick cock
back inside his mouth. I look into his eyes as I fuck his mouth at a slow but rough pace, enjoying every wet, choked noise trying
to escape his mouth around my cock.
“You're doing so good, love. I love fucking your throat and feeling you try to swallow around me.” My head tips back in
pleasure, keeping up the steady pace of leisurely moving in and out of his mouth.
I snap my head back down to look at him when he groans deeply, pausing for a second to feel him swallow before sliding
out of his mouth. His chest heaves and tears trail down his cheekbones as saliva strings from my cock to his mouth.
“So pretty,” I whisper, releasing my grip on his hair, stroking my fingers over his tears, and bringing them to my mouth to
have a taste.
I grunt, loving the taste of him on my tongue. His tears. Skin. Lush lips. Cum. Every part of him, I love, every single part.
“Please,” he pleads in a husky voice.
“Please, what? Too much for you, love?” I demand an answer, wondering if I went too far with him and silently hating
myself if I did.
“Let me make you feel good. I want your cum, Nicholas.”
Who am I to deny him when he begs so prettily?
“Ask nicely,” I command, feeling my pulse with every rough thud of my heart.
Does it make me a sick bastard that I want to fill his mouth until my cum is overflowing between his lips and dripping
down his chest? I want to fucking coat him in my essence and smear it into his skin like his own personal lotion that smells of
me.
“Use me. Fuck my mouth. Let me suck you off until you're shuddering and bruising my throat so I can’t speak for days.
Please, Nicholas,” he asks roughly, his voice needy and his hot breath making me shiver as he leans closer to put me back in
his mouth, but he waits for permission as he stares up at me unblinking.
“Don’t swallow. Open.” I arch a brow and grip my cock, tapping the tip against his parted lips, and feed my long length,
inch by inch, into his mouth as he follows my command.
Fuck.
I love this sight. I love him.
The world could be blown to shit, burning down around us, but I wouldn’t notice or, hell, fucking care. Seeing him like this
before our deaths would be worth it.
His tongue swirls around the fat tip of my cock, savoring the taste of me like his own personal favorite ice cream cone. He
sinks down on me, hollowing his cheeks, and smacks my hand away from the base of my cock so he can glide up and down
further each time until his forehead grazes my abs.
“Yes, just like that, Tey. Oh fuck,” I groan, willing my heavy-lidded eyes to stay open to watch my cock disappear down his
throat and see the hungry way he moves his lips faster in and out of his mouth.
My spine tingles and my abs clutch each time I hear the sloppy, wet noises leaving his mouth. Pleasure fogs my mind,
leaving only him and each heaving breath that escapes me the closer I get to coming on his tongue.
“Pull off now and stick your tongue out!” I demand, fisting his hair and tugging his head back as I slide out of his mouth
with an audible pop.
He admittedly obeys, sticking his long tongue out just as I grip the base of my cock and explode with pulses of cum shooting
out of the tip of my cock. Jet after jet of white, sticky cum coats his pierced tongue, and wild, loud-as-hell groans leave my
mouth as he looks up at me with wide, burning blue eyes.
Sweat drips down my neck, making the ends of my hair stick to my skin, and tremblers of pleasure travel down my spine
until I finally stop coming with a shuddering breath. I tip my head back to look at the ceiling for a second to compose myself,
exhaling sharply and clenching my fists to gain control of what I’m about to do next.
“Stand up and turn around, love,” I quietly say, looking back down to see Tey’s eyes crinkled at the corners in a cocky way
that won’t be there much longer when I’m done with him.
He slowly gets to his feet, drool and cum dripping from his tongue since I haven’t told him to swallow. He starts to turn to
face the bed, but I halt him by gripping his chin and making him look at me.
“You're going to drop your pants and bend over without a single complaint or smart-ass remark. Am I clear?” I don’t hold
back, demanding each task, leaving my mouth to be met as I place two fingers on his tongue.
I glide my index and middle fingers back and forth, collecting my cum and coating my digits before I pull away. I nod my
head at him, and he closes his mouth, swallowing the taste of me as his eyes slip close with a pleased, hungry hum. He gazes
back at me after a second and silently follows my commands without saying a word. The sound of his zipper lowering and his
pants dropping to the floor makes my breath pick right back up.
Fucking hell.
My cock is still fucking hard. It hasn't gone down, even though I just came.
I don’t see that changing anytime soon as Tey bends over the end of the bed, the muscles in asscheeks flexing and thighs
straining with barely contained anticipation.
“So eager to please, but that smug smirk is about to wipe off your face after I’m done with you,” I say, stroking his left ass
cheek and resting my other wet, sticky hand on the bottom of his spine where it meets his crack before, oh, so slowly dragging
my finger down between his cheeks.
“Oh god,” Tey breathes out, his ass clenching as I rest my fingers around his puckered, gaping hole.
“That’s right, love. I’m your god.” I chuckle darkly as he swears under his breath, just as I circle my fingers around and
around his puckered hole like I have all the time in the world.
I pause and see him start to lift his head to know why I stopped, but he drops right back down with his face turned to the
side on the bedding. My palm smacks his left asscheek, leaving behind a bright bed of my handprint. It’s quite a beautiful
display. My hand stings as I connect with his muscled ass again, the sound echoing around the round. It sounds like bliss to me
as my eyes slide close for a second, as I stroke his asshole when I bring my palm down on his left cheek again.
“Between you and Tillie, my hands will always be busy. I have a feeling that my two brats are going to need to be punished
every day.” I smirk as he whimpers into the comforter, his fists gripping the bedding tightly as I glide my hand over his hip
bone.
Soft, smooth skin with rugged muscles twitch under my hand as I trace the v of his hip and slide down farther until my palm
is wrapped around his hard, long, pierced girthy cock. Cum is dripping out of him like a stream as I circle his asshole with my
cum-covered fingers.
“I’ve wanted to stretch this asshole for years, Tey,” I confess, stroking the palm of my hand up and down his cock with a
light grip.
“Yes. Please, Nicholas. I’m yours. Every piece of me is yours. I’ve been preparing myself for you for a long time.” Tey
whispers, turning his head to look at me over his broad shoulder.
I pause my hand on his cock, tilting my head to the side as I stare at him, and rest my index and middle fingers at his
clenching, puckered hole.
“What do you mean preparing?” I ask, spreading my fingers apart to stretch his asshole and coating the outer ring of
muscles with my cum before just resting my fingers only fingertip deep.
“Hell, Nicky. I literally got my asshole lasered back in tenth grade, so it’s only smooth skin for you. Remember when I was
walking like I just spent hours on a horse the second semester of tenth grade? I got my cock pierced and had all the hair
removed from my body just for you.” He bites on his lip ring while his cheekbones lightly turn pink.
“You did that for me?” I ask, looking down to gather my thoughts and watch his asshole stretch as I push my fingers in
deeper, almost too easily.
“Tey… How else did you prepare for me?” I ask in a throaty voice as I feel my cock jerk in excitement.
“I’ve known that I’d always be yours since before I even knew what love was. I have waited for you to realize that I will
always be here for you and Tillie. I had time on my hands and thought, well, I’d practice with some, um, dildos.” The last
words come out in a rush, his mouth hanging out with a grunt as I slip my fingers fully into his ass in one thrust.
“You’ve prepared this ass for my cock one day... Did you know the whole time that I’m completely yours?” My tone comes
out adoring, opposite of how hard I’m pounding his ass with my cum-covered fingers and the tight grasp I have on his weeping
cock.
“Always. I just waited for you to come around when you were ready.” He chokes out on a gasp.
“Such a good boy. Do you deserve an award, you think?” I question as I kneel down on one leg and lightly skim my lips
over the red marks of my handprint on his ass.
It’s a masterpiece.
He’s lost. I lose him as bliss overcomes his expression, his moans growing louder and louder as I pick up the speed of both
of my hands. He fucks my fist back, hips thrusting forward as he hangs his head forward with a heavy exhale and moves faster
when I rub my fingers inside his ass over the spot that’s going to make him see stars. When he doesn’t answer me, I open my
mouth and bite right over the bright red of his left asscheek. I shouldn’t be surprised, but I was expecting a different response
the moment I sank my teeth into him.
Maybe a yelp. Whimpering. Swearing… But who am I kidding? This is Tey.
His asshole clenches my fingers until I can barely feel them. His body shudders and stickiness covers my other hand as cum
jerks out of his cock in white ropes that cover the bedding. I stand back up, leaning to the side, to see the mess he made. I’m
almost tempted to command him to lick it all up, but seeing his fists closed tightly on the comforter and his arms shaking as he
tries to push himself up, I change my mind. Glancing down, I shake my head to clear my head and silently talk to my cock to
stay down. I need to give my Tey some love and aftercare.
I smooth my hand up and down his back, watching his shoulder muscles shift with each inhalation and exhalation until his
breathing returns to normal and he slowly stands to his full height. Turning towards me, his blue eyes look deep and dark, like
the ocean in the moonlight. The blissed-out expression, relaxed smile, and rapid blinking have me smirking.
“Good reward?” I whisper, grabbing the back of his neck and leaning him forward until his forehead rests against mine.
 Rolling my head along his, I breathe him in and lightly place my mouth on his plump lips. He kisses me back just as gently,
his lips curving at the corner the longer we stand there, not saying anything.
“I think you're right. I’m pretty sure the future holds punishment for Tillie and me. I can see your hand already twitching.
Maybe I’ll get a tattoo of your handprint on my ass.” He sighs again, almost dreamily.
I chuckle and pull away, grabbing his hand and leading him towards the bathroom so I can clean us from head to toe while
showing him how much I love him with my touch.
“No need, love. Your ass will be red for the rest of your days. I’m pretty sure the outline of the shape of my palm will
never fade with how much the two of you get into trouble.” I shake my head in exasperation, pretending that it’s a huge burden
when, in reality, my hand really is twitching to mark him all over again.
“Oh no. How horrible. However, will Tillie and I survive?" he says dramatically, chuckling in delight.
“Brat,” I mumble, but I can’t contain my grin.
 Tillie

I can hear soft jazz music playing the moment we step into Franco’s house. It might be French jazz, with a low and husky
voice singing. It’s the type of music that is meant to create a calming environment for everyone to relax, have wine with
friends and family, and make memories with laughter.
It instantly puts me on edge, leaving goosebumps to appear on my arms as soon as the door shuts behind us. The sound of
the lock clicking shut makes me jump. I have the strongest urge to run. It’s something I can’t control; it’s as if my body is saying,
Fuck this shit. Flee before you end up with a bullet in your forehead.
“Hey. Look at me.” Logan’s voice is like warm, dripping syrup as he grasps my chin and makes me look up at him. “I won’t
let anything happen to you.”
Protectiveness gleams in his honey eyes, a promise that can go unspoken: I’m safe with him, no matter what.
“I won’t let anything bad happen to you either. Both of you,” I whisper, straightening my spine as I feel Dom glide up to my
side and watch him pull a handkerchief out of his pocket to wipe blood precisely away from his fingers with a pleased grin
adorning his face.
“Have fun?” I ask Dom with a raised brow as I look pointedly at his bloody hands.
“Yes. I could always go another round with Franco’s men. It’s really a shame how easy they are to kill. I stabbed one of the
men with a neat plunge to the throat, and the other hired help dropped his gun and ran for the gates without alerting anyone that I
was on the property. The security measures make me break out in hives.” Dom fakes a shiver and trails his fingers down my
back as he guides me into the house.
He does have a point, though. It was stupid easy how he got rid of men roaming the grounds on the property. We pulled in
through the gate in Logan’s car, and Dom slipped out the back door as the car was still moving. He disappeared into the
shadows so easily and took out five men like it was a walk in the park for him.
Logan snorts under his breath and rolls his eyes at Dom just as he passes us. So he takes the lead, and Dom trails behind us.
I know they are silently protecting me from all sides, and that alone warms my heart.
I really do have nothing to fear.
The sound of my heels click against the tile floors as we walk past the living room and kitchen. I can hear Diana laughing at
something and another male voice I don’t recognize. Logan calmly enters the dining room, a step ahead of us, with confidence
in the way he gracefully walks with his broad shoulders straight as if everyone else is beneath him.
“Son. Nice of you to join us." I can practically hear Franco’s teeth grinding together in anger; we are only five minutes late.
It takes time to kill anyone; he’s lucky we haven’t arrived later than we have. He doesn’t need to get his panties in a twist;
he should know it takes time and patience to eliminate the enemy. I know for a fact that Franco’s hands are stained red no
matter how hard he scrubs his hands in hot water.
“Logan! You remember Paris’s father, Judge Alderson. Have a seat here! We are just waiting on Paris. She seems to be
running late, too. Speaking of tardy, have you seen my daughter?” I round the corner just as Diana chokes out the word daughter
in a falsely, cheerful tone.
“I wouldn’t miss this for the world, Mother,” I drawl out slowly, disgust laced in my tone. I can’t help it.
She won’t ever be my mother. I used to pray for Lorrie to show any type of motherly love for her child, but I stopped
dreaming a long time ago. Diana brought me into this cruel world, but she doesn’t mean anything else to me. I could probably
meet a stranger on a train who would show me kindness, which she has shown me in the short time we’ve interacted.
She sneers at me, her deep red lips curling, before she straightens her expression into something false, since Judge
Alderson clears his throat awkwardly.
“Judge,” Logan says in a bored tone as he addresses the balding man next to Diana, “I’m sure Paris will be joining us very
soon.”
Logan’s voice sounds a little too sinister as he drops the cooler on the floor next to his chair by Franco, and it takes a lot of
effort to not grin at the inside joke. Diana swallows nervously as her hands flutter in her lap, and Franco’s wine sloshes on the
table as he places his drink down a little too hard.
“Sit down, now. We were just having a conversation about the new shipment coming in soon. Alderson has pulled some
strings and assured me that a few witnesses have come forward and won’t be saying anything after all.” The double meaning in
Franco’s voice isn’t hard to figure out. Any witnesses who talk will be silenced by any means necessary.
I saunter over next to Logan as he pulls out the chair for me, his lips brushing my temple with affection once I’m seated. I
peer across the table at Alderson to see the sour expression crossing his face, his beady eyes behind his glasses glaring at me. I
can only imagine Logan touching me in any way that is going to make Alderson angry. He probably has plans for Paris and
Logan, wedding bells, and popping out babies just so he can be on Franco’s good side.
I wrinkle my nose at him but grin as I trail my hand down Logan’s arm once he sits beside me. I want Judge Alderson to
know that I’m oh so painfully familiar with the man sitting close enough to me that my hand disappears under the table to grab
the hard thigh and climb higher.
Logan doesn’t say anything. His expression is stoic, but a glance down shows me the little game I’m playing makes him
deliciously hard. I gaze up from under my lashes with a sly smirk at the judge and love how red his face gets in his barely
contained rage.
“One moment, Franco. We can’t start dinner without my new partner. It’s rude to talk about business behind his back. Dom.
Please, do join us.” Logan’s voice comes out bored, as if he’s talking about the weather instead of one of his father’s rivals.
I peek over my shoulder with a grin as Dom strolls into the room, as if he owns the place, his arms casually clasped behind
his back as he surveys the scene in front of him. His eyes are heavy-lidded, slowly drifting his gaze over Diana, Alderson, and,
lastly, Franco. If I didn’t know him and understood the way he likes to observe people for their weaknesses, I’d almost say he
looks entirely unbothered for being a target in a room of people who hate him.
“What the fuck?" Franco shouts, his chair scraping back as he starts to stand and grips a steak knife in his fist. Except Dom
puts a stop to a raging Franco by leveling a gun at his forehead.
“Now, now. Is that any way to treat a guest?” Dom clicks his tongue and shakes his head at Franco, like he’s a great
disappointment for behaving rudely. “Logan. I’m starting to see why you were a complete ass the first time we met, but you’ve
really grown on me. At least you have some manners. Obviously, you must have gotten those from your mother.”
“What can I say? Once you start fucking the same girl, you end up finding out you have a lot in common with the enemy.”
Logan sloshes the red wine glass he stole from Franco and sips it like he doesn’t have a care in the world.
I’m impressed. He can act so nonchalant and appear bored while everyone else is practically sweating in their seats. Who
will kill who first is going around the table as we all stare at each other with shifting, untrusting eyes.
“I knew when I let you into my house that you would only cause trouble. You couldn’t turn out to be anything but a slut.
Being raised by bikers only leads to your thighs spreading,” Diana directs at me as she pretends to clutch pearls around her
neck, her voice laced with disgust.
“You would know, wouldn’t you, Diana?” I sneer back at her, flicking my gaze up and down at her as if she’s filthy. “I
didn’t have a choice about who ended up between my legs, but at least I didn’t beg for it. Especially when your husband was
eating my pussy like he was starving. Funny, I didn’t ask for that either.”
“How dare you talk to me like that? You're nothing but an unwanted whore and always will be,” Diana screeches like a
banshee, her ridiculous blonde hair not moving as she whips her head over to Franco. “Are you going to let her talk to me that
way?”
Franco hasn’t looked away from Dom the whole time. His forehead is damp with sweat, and his eyes are bloodshot with
rage.
“Shut the fuck up, Diana,” Franco hisses between his teeth, glancing over at his wife out of the corner of his eye with a
warning look to behave or else.
Diana huffs and clenches her fists on the white silk linen covering the table. I shift my gaze to Alderson, who hasn’t made a
peep since Dom entered the room. He looks like he’s seconds away from the grave, his complexion grey and his breathing
harsh.
“I no longer recognize you as my son. You're dead to me for being a traitor,” Franco says in a low voice, but for some
reason he doesn’t look so surprised by this outcome; he has pure anger in his eyes.
“You already knew,” I state, staring pointedly at Franco as he turns to look at me.
“You were all foolish and naive to think Jin doesn’t have eyes and ears everywhere,” Franco says smugly, his expression
causing a shiver down my spine.
“You are the fool, Franco. My mother doesn’t have peace because of you. She’s rolling in her grave at the man you’ve
become. She wouldn’t recognize you, and I almost lost myself because of you. This whole time you’ve been blind, letting Jin
whisper into your ear like the devil.” Logan slams his fist on the table, causing the fine china to rattle as he grabs the rolled-up
file out of his suit jacket and throws it in front of Franco on the table.
Franco glances down and back at Logan before slowly picking up the file, opening it with what I can only describe as
apprehension on his face as the blood drains from his cheeks.
“You can't—you have no right to threaten us! I am a judge! I’ll have you all thrown in jail, where you’ll never see the light
of day again.” Alderson raises his voice with each threat, but his hands shake on the surface of the dining table, giving away his
fear.
“People always think that money will give you power, but that’s far from the truth. Don’t get me wrong, it’s a big part.
However the real thing that makes men quake in terror at your presence is not being afraid to do what is necessary to rise to the
top. My hands are covered in blood, and my men's hands are covered in blood. They follow me because I’m not scared to get
my hands dirty. I must say that Tey has a wonderful way of showing everyone that he is something to fear. For example…
Logan?” Dom smirks at Franco but addresses Alderson the whole time before flickering his eyes at Logan with a nod to the
cooler.
“Ah. I almost forgot Tey’s thank-you gift for hosting dinner. He’s sorry he couldn’t make it but hopes this centerpiece is
enough to show how much he regrets not making it.” Logan’s honeyed eyes darken just like his voice, downright sinful and with
a hint of glee.
It’s as if everyone is holding their breath as Logan reaches down and opens the cooler. The moment is suspenseful,
especially since no one can see what he’s doing. I haven’t even seen what Tey has done with his artwork. While everyone is
watching Logan, Dom strolls around the table on silent feet with his gun still trained on Franco, but he stops right behind
Alderson just as the floral arrangement from Tey is placed on the center of the table with a loud bang.
Diana lets out an ear-splitting scream just as Alderson makes a choked sound of horror. My gaze flicks towards Franco,
and my eyebrows shoot up as he calmly stares at the centerpiece without blinking, the file crumpled in his fist. His only sign
that he’s furious is the pulse thudding on his neck and tense shoulders. He suddenly reaches out and slaps Diana with the back
of his hand. Her screaming is cut off so suddenly that I can hear Alderson sobbing in his seat.
“Quiet! Or I’ll make sure you can’t make another noise,” Franco threatens in a furious voice, his eyes coolly staring down
at Diana. She quickly shuts up and bends her head down until she’s staring at her tightly clasped hand in her lap.
“M-my bab-baby girl!” Alderson chokes out behind his sobs and only says sitting because Dom is holding him down with
his hand on the judge's shoulder.
“The world is a better place without Paris. You gotta hand it to Tey, he really has a unique way of expressing his art work.”
Logan leans back in his seat, his long legs spread out like a king in his royal court.
My stomach is queasy because Tey really outdid himself by making a statement with Paris’s decapitated head. The sight is
gruesome yet oddly beautiful. I think I might be losing my mind. Her lips are forever stuck into a stiff smile, her eyes closed as
if she’s sleeping, and she has a very gray complexion. No one can mistake her for sleeping, though, since, well, she’s only a
head on a silver platter glued to her perfectly cut neck.
The bullet hole on her forehead is surrounded by a heart of paint, something like face paint you would see at a carnival. It’s
hard to look away; it’s a sight that sends shivers down your spine, but the flowers are so pretty that you can’t take your eyes off
Paris. The part of her head where the bullet exited left a big, gaping hole, but Tey killed it with flowers.
White roses.
Rebirth and innocence.
It’s perfectly ruined by the splashes of dark red blood staining the flowers.
"Are you okay, mama?” Dom asks from across the table, his deep brown eyes looking at me with concern as a few tears
drip down my cheek.
“Oh! Yes. It’s just… really beautiful in a deadly poetic way. Ya know?” I hastily wipe my tears and grin slightly to let him
know I’m okay before gesturing to proceed with the killing.
“I can’t wait to tell Tey his art made you cry.” Logan chuckles in amusement and reaches for my hand that just wiped away
tears, kissing my knuckles before standing up while buttoning his deep blue suit jacket.
“Dom. If you would, please. I’d like to make it to fight night and fuck our girl until she can’t walk.” Logan nods toward
Dom, who grabs a fork off the table over the whimpering judge's shoulder.
 Without hesitating, he plunges the fork into Alderson’s neck, right over an artery, and pulls it out just as fast. A spray of red
gushes out of his neck as he gurgles out a cry, showering Diana like a waterfall with warm blood. She screams again with her
eyes squeezed shut and a mouth full of blood. She looks like a scene from the movie ‘Carrie.’ It’s only a couple seconds before
her screaming stops as she passes out and topples out of her chair, face-planting on the floor out cold. All the while, Dom has
his gun still trained on Franco; he makes him watch the judge slowly choke on his own blood. We all watch as Alderson takes
his last breath. He slumps forward and dies, his face ending up in a salad.
“Where did you get this file?” Franco asks in a quiet voice, his gaze pinned on Logan with intensity as he holds up the real
evidence of his wife’s death.
“Your business partner keeps all his dirty work on file. How does it feel to know that you’ve been shaking hands with the
man who killed your wife? My mother!” Logan shouts suddenly as years of rage unleash itself, towering over his father and
getting right in his face.
“I didn’t know,” Franco whispers, staring wide-eyed at Logan. “I didn’t know! He murdered my Helen!” Franco yells out
with a haunting, grief-filled pain that causes my skin to break out in goosebumps.
I almost, and I mean almost, feel bad for him. Only he deserves this for all the years of hurting his son over and over again.
He took an oath to protect and serve but ended up bending and molding into someone evil while turning a blind eye to all the
real answers to his pain. He’s ruined lives. Killed without remorse to those who didn’t deserve it. He made his son hate him
and almost made Logan into a villain who would be in so deep that he’d never be able to leave.
“I thought about killing you so many times. You haven’t been my father for years. You became a complete stranger to me
once Mom died. I want you to suffer. You're going to live with the knowledge that you’ve been lying in bed with her murderer
this whole time. I’m no longer your son,” Logan says, his tone harsh and low as his chest heaves.
Franco groans, the sound of pain filled with agony as if he’s just finding out his wife died all over again. A broken man sits
in his chair, staring up at his son with watery eyes.
“Logan. I’m sorry-,” Franco cuts off with a loud gasp as he looks down at his stomach in disbelief on his face.
My chair clatters to the floor as I stand in shock with my hand over my mouth and tears blurring my vision. Logan stands
there panting, his right hand dripping blood around the steak knife he’s holding in a tight grip.
I hadn’t even seen him grab the knife off the dining table. He appears almost manic-looking as he stabs Franco two times in
the stomach. His eyes are hard, focused on Franco with pure hatred. I blink rapidly, clearing the tears, and slowly approach
him, my heart breaking for him.
“Logan?” I softly whisper, gently placing my hand on his arm and gaining his attention off his slumped-over father who’s
groaning in pain.
He looks down at me, confused, and his eyes are distant with scrunched brows.
“Tillie,” Logan gasps like he can’t breathe and draws me into his arms until my cheek is plastered to his suit jacket.
He squeezes tight as if he’s afraid to let go, as if he’ll drown without me keeping him afloat. I just hold him tighter to let
him know I’m here.
“It’s okay. You're okay,” I say over and over into his neck as I stand on my tiptoes so only he can hear me.
He says nothing except kisses my forehead, drawing in a shuddering breath as he straightens.
“He showed you mercy today, Franco. I personally would love to see you suffer. Be the one to end your life for fucking
mine up. You are only alive because he has deemed it. Make no mistake, if you don’t bleed out to death and for some stupid,
fucking reason to ever show your face again… I won’t hesitate to torture you to death.” Dom says this with his gun under
Franco’s chin, so he’s looking up at him, seeing the promised threat in his dark eyes.
To emphasize his point, Dom leans forward and places his fingers on the stab wound, digging his digits into Franco’s flesh
as he sits there, grunting in agony.
“Son.” Franco gasps out and glances over to Logan with pleading eyes.
“You're already dead to me,” Logan says in a hollow voice with no emotion as he glances away from his father, whom he
once looked up to.
“Let’s get out of here.” I wrap my arm around his waist, sticking to his side for support as we turn away and start to leave
while Dom nods his head to go. He’ll follow along shortly, no doubt not done with threatening Franco, but the next words stop
me in my tracks with the blood draining from my face.
“Cru-Cruz wants m-me to give you a-a mess-message,” Franco says between gasps.
I almost don’t twist around. I want to walk out the door and pretend I never heard him. But I can’t. No more running.
Logan turns with me, his posture stiff, and suddenly he’s the one having to hold me up.
“My pocke-t,” Franco stutters out with a cough and weakly pulls out something in his suit jacket with weak hands.
Dom quickly grabs it. His expression is worried, his brown eyes wide as he looks at the object in his grasp before peering
over at me.
“What is it this time?” I choke out, my hands gripping Logan’s jacket as my heart starts pounding in dread.
“I don’t think—" Dom trails off and glances at Logan as they silently communicate over my head.
 “Just show me,” I demand with a deep exhale and will my hands to stop shaking.
“Maybe this isn’t the right time, baby girl. Let’s go to the compound and sit down,” Logan starts to say, but I glare up at him
and lift my chin.
“I’m not weak or a damsel in distress. I can take it. Fucking show me,” I demand in a stern voice, not looking away from
him until he lets out a sigh and nods towards Dom.
Swinging my gaze over, Dom hesitates and strides towards me with determined steps.
“I don’t know what this means, mama, but whatever it is, we’ll face it together,” Dom promises as he looks down at me
with overprotectiveness in his eyes that’s slightly tender at the same time.
I hold my hand out, watching his one eye twitch as if he’s about to change his mind, except he sees the stubborn expression
on my face. He gently places the object in my hand while holding my gaze, and I bite my lip, afraid to look down.
“You're safe. No one will hurt you,” Logan whispers in my ear, rubbing my back with soothing strokes.
“Son,” Franco whispers pleadingly behind us, his voice weak.
We ignore him as both Dom and Logan walk me out of the kitchen and into the hallway so we don’t have to listen to Franco
shouting for his son to come back.
Gathering courage, I look down at my palm and blink rapidly, not believing what I’m seeing at first. It’s a finger—a male
index finger, judging by the size and thickness. I stare in confusion, my heart racing as I try to understand what the message
means.
Cruz sent me a finger.
My attention is drawn towards the shiny ring still on the digit. I hold it up to the light and feel my hand slacken its grip on
the finger in shock.
“Baby girl?” Logan asks in concern, tightening his grip on me as I sway on my feet.
“Do you know who that belongs to?” Dom crouches down to my height as black dots blur my vision.
"Rig," I rasp just before passing out.
 Franco

“S on.” I reach towards my only child, watching him turn his back on me. He doesn’t look back as I lay bleeding on the
dining room floor.
Everything I knew was a complete lie.
For how long I’ve known Jin, I figured he would stab me in the back one day, but it seems he’s been playing me like a game
of chess. That moment, that very moment years ago, outside of Dom’s father’s house, standing in the pouring rain, Jin appeared
out of the shadows like the devil. I shook hands with him and became an ally. I didn’t know I was sealing a deal with a man
who had killed my Helen. I always wanted to be ahead of others, driven to be better than anyone else. I think back to when I
went through the police academy, being at the top of my class, and graduating with Helen cheering for me. She was there for
every triumphant moment in my life. Through the good and hard days, when I came home from a long day at work. I supported
my family, working to the bone so my wife and son would have a roof over their heads, but Helen used to push me more to see
what was right in front of me. She always used to say family is everything, and life goes by so fast that you can miss most of the
important moments in the blink of an eye.
I stood by that and tried to make it home for birthdays and holidays, to be there for my little family. That one moment, the
second I found out my Helen died... I felt something inside of me collapse. Maybe it was my heart that just stopped that day as I
held her one last time, but the drive I used to have, was gone with Helen. I became obsessed with killing her murderer; revenge
was my closest friend until I finally pulled the trigger on the man who took my other better half away from me. I didn’t see back
then that the path would lead me to where I am now.
Somewhere along the line, I lost myself to greed, corruption, and power. My own flesh and blood is a stranger. I have made
myself into a man who Logan would never be close to. I am a monster.
“I’m sorry, Helen,” I whisper to the chandelier, the bright lights becoming hazier and brighter.
I laugh and cough at the same time, the sound coming out raspy. It’s almost ironic. Days ago, I thought of killing my son if he
ever betrayed me, and he ended up stabbing me repeatedly instead. I was going to do it too, but Logan beat me to the punch. I
can’t really blame him for leaving me to suffer with my thoughts as I slowly bleed out. My son would have been rotting next to
my wife in the cold, damp soil, and I would have carried on with life and worked beside Jin until I also got rid of him.
My, my, how fast the world does go around.
Helen was right. It only takes one blink, and you end up missing so much in the span of a second.
“Fuck!” I shout, regret burning me from the inside for all I’ve done, and the bridges I’ve burned because of my damaged
soul.
I already know I won’t see my Helen in heaven; my path will take me down to the fiery pits of hell so I can relive this
moment over and over.
I
 Am.
A.
Fool.
That fucking file. He kept a file on the killing of my wife. Almost like a trophy. I wonder if he would go through the pages
every now and then and have a good laugh at my expense. The first page in the file was a faraway picture of Helen, her face
turned towards the camera, though her eyes were looking in the wrong direction, wholly unaware she was being photographed.
A list was the second page of everything my wife did daily: her routine. Pages after pages. Someone, probably one of Jin’s
triad members, stalked my wife for a long time. Likely, when I started working on the case. It seems Jin has eyes and ears
everywhere. He even had paperwork on me right from the beginning of my rookie cop career to the day my Helen died.
The red, bold stamp executed over my wife’s smiling photo was like a kick to the gut; the breath knocked right out of you.
Or, in my case, a stab to the stomach.
“Oh God. Franco!” Diana shrieks somewhere off to my right, and her blurry, horrified face appears in my line of sight.
“You're bleeding! Oh my god! Ambulance.” She’s muttering to herself as she flutters her hands over me and stands to get to her
phone.
“No ambulance,” I grit out with a hiss and release my stomach, blood spilling forth from the wound like a river. “Take my
phone and look for my doctor. He is on call for emergencies. He’ll know what to do.”
I dig my phone out of my pocket, handing it shakily to Diana. She quickly scrolls through my contacts and calls my private
doctor just for these emergencies while pressing on my stomach with a grimace on her face.
My eyes blink slowly, closing and opening what feels like hours later, but it’s only been a few seconds. I watch Diana
through blurry eyes, black dots dancing in my vision. For a split second, her face goes fuzzy around the edges, softer, and I’m
staring at my Helen until she’s gone once again.
So many regrets.
Death is at my door, knocking very fucking loudly on the other side.
I still have one more thing to do; I’m not ready to meet the devil just yet.
It’s the last thing I think before my eyes finally shut, and then... darkness.
 Dalton

“A xel,” I beckon my club brother over as I wrap my hand with tape and watch him excuse himself from the sweetbutts
surrounding him. “Who am I fighting?”
He grins like a little shit and claps my shoulder. “Lug. Godspeed, soldier.” Axel chuckles as I clench my teeth
together.
“Well, fuck.” I finish wrapping up my knuckles and crack my neck while jogging in place. “Watch out for my girl, yeah?” I
order as I whip my shirt over my head and throw a few punches in the air as a warm-up.
“Of course, but I highly doubt she’ll need it. I have never seen a group of men more pussy whipped than the five of you.
She’ll be just fine. A queen on a pedestal surrounded by her protective, batshit crazy men. I’d just focus on the fight because
you know Lug will rearrange your pretty face.” Axel pats my shoulder again and shoves his hands in his jeans pockets while
rocking on his heels.
“I don't know why I put up with you, but good to know you think my face is pretty.” I laugh as I put him in a headlock and
ruffle his perfect hair. I know for a fact that he takes nearly an hour each morning to style his hair to perfection.
“Not the hair, man! The ladies love these golden locks. Now, go fuck up Lug, so he stops walking around like a cocky
fucker,” Axel says with a grin and struts away towards his fan club of ladies with a merry whistle.
I can only shake my head and try to focus back on the fight as I shuffle my feet on the gravel of the parking lot. My boots are
covered in dirt and dust since they are easier to move around in when I’m fighting Lug.
Why does it have to be Lug of all my club brothers? The guy is a fucking giant with a meat-hammer fist. I wince, already
knowing I’m going to be covered in bruises by the end of the night. Shaking my head, I glance around and notice the parking lot
is now packed with my brothers in arms, all huddled around rusty bins burning with fire to see into the night as a circle starts to
form around the makeshift fighting ring.
It’s just a bunch of them standing around in the gravel parking lot at the compound, drinking beers and cheering on with
blood lust for fight night.
Cracking my neck side to side, I walk towards the middle of the circle, clapping club members on the shoulders in greeting
as they cheer in a chant of my name.
“Dalton.”
“Knock his fucking teeth out, Prez.”
“Hell’s Devils, Prez.”
I need this. Fuck. We all need this tonight to blow off some steam. Pops always said that there will always be someone out
to get you; see you knocked down off your throne. Sometimes you have to let go every once in a while, or you’ll just do the
same thing every day until you're six feet under. What did you really live for?
I miss my old man, but I know he’s watching over me and drinking a beer as he cheers for me to beat the shit out of
Another random document with
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 The enemy were in possession of nearly all the Union camps and
camp equipage. Half the field artillery had fallen into his hands; a
division general had been captured—many officers had followed him,
and more than one regiment of soldiers had been made prisoners.
The battle field was cumbered at every step with killed and wounded;
the hospital tents were overflowing and crowded with human agony.
A long ridge bluff set apart for surgical purposes swarmed with the
maimed, the dead and the dying, whose cries and groans broke
fearfully through the pauses of the artillery. A dogged, stubborn
resolution took possession of the men; regiments had lost their
favorite officers; companies had been bereft of their captains. Still
they continued to fight desperately, but with little hope.
At three o’clock the gunboat Tyler opened fire on the enemy, and
at four the Lexington came up, taking position half a mile above the
landing, and opened fire, striking terror into the ranks of the enemy.
General Grant was confident that his troops could hold the enemy
off till morning, and said this while standing with his staff in a group
by the old log post-office on the landing, which was then crowded
with surgeons and the wounded; but still the men fought with a
despairing light in their eyes.
In a time like this, minutes count for years. General Grant used
them to a golden purpose. Colonel Webster, chief of staff, and an
artillery officer of ability, had arranged all the guns he could collect
in a sort of semi-circle, protecting the Landing, and bearing chiefly
on the Union centre and left, by which the rebels were pretty sure to
advance. Corps of artillerists to man them were improvised from all
the batteries that could be found. Twenty-two guns in all were placed
in position. Two of them were very heavy siege guns, long thirty-
two’s. Where they came from, what battery they belonged to, no man
questioned. It was quite unimportant. Enough that they were there,
in the right place, half a mile back from the bluff, sweeping the
approaches by the left, and by the ridge Corinth road, but with few to
work them. Dr. Corvine, surgeon of Frank Blair’s First Missouri
Artillery, proffered his services, which were gladly accepted, and he
worked them with terrible effect.
It was half-past four o’clock—perhaps later still. Every division of
the Union army on the field had been repulsed. The enemy occupied
almost all their camps. The struggling remnant of Federal troops had
been driven to within little over half a mile of the Landing. Behind
was a deep, rapid river. In front was a victorious enemy. Still there
was an hour for fighting. O, that night or Lew. Wallace would come!
Nelson’s division of Buell’s army evidently could not cross in time to
save the day. No one could tell why Lew. Wallace was not on the
ground. In the justice of a righteous cause, and in that semi-circle of
twenty-two guns in position, lay all the hope these beleagured men
could see.
At five o’clock the artillery which had been thundering so stormily,
held its fire a little; the flash of muskets from the enemy’s lines died
away, and his columns fell back on the centre for nearly a mile. With
a sudden swoop they wheeled and again threw their entire force on
the left wing, determined to end the fearful contest of the day then
and there.
Suddenly a broad, sulphurous flash of light leaped out from the
darkening woods, and through the glare and smoke came whistling
leaden hail. The rebels were making their crowning effort for the day,
and as was expected, they came from the left and centre. They had
wasted their fire at one thousand yards. Instantaneously a new
tempest from the black-mouthed Union guns flung out its
thunderous response. The rebel artillery opened, and shell and round
shot came tearing across the open space back of the bluff. The Union
infantry poured in a glorious response from their broken battalions,
invigorated by the announcement that the advance of Buell’s army
was in sight. Just then a body of cavalry appeared across the
Tennessee river, waiting transportation. In their extremity the
soldiers turned their eyes anxiously that way. Was it Buell—was it
Nelson coming to the rescue?
 ARRIVAL OF GENERAL BUELL.
The eyes of those weary soldiers brighten. Their courage revived.
Help was near. Even in that lurid atmosphere they could see the
gleaming of the gun-barrels amid the leaves and undergrowth down
the opposite side of the river. They caught hopeful glimpses of the
steady, swinging tramp of trained soldiers. A division of Buell’s army
was coming up.
Then came a boat across with a lieutenant and two or three
privates of the Signal Corps. Some orders were given the officer, and
as instantly telegraphed to the other side by the mysterious wavings
and raisings and droppings of the flags. A steamer came up with
pontoons on board, with which a bridge could be speedily thrown
across the river.
She quietly reconnoitered a few moments, and steamed back
again. Perhaps, after all, it was better to have no bridge there. It
made escape impossible, and left nothing but victory or death to the
struggling Union troops. Preparations were rapidly made for
crossing General Nelson’s division, (for he had the advance of Buell’s
army,) on the dozen transports that had been tied up along the bank.
The division of W. H. L. Wallace held the enemy at bay in his last
desperate effort to break the Union lines. While forcing through a
cross-fire, General Wallace fell mortally wounded. Brigadier-General
McArthur took the command, but he too was wounded, and Colonel
Tuttle, as senior in rank, rallied the shattered brigades. He was
joined by the Thirteenth Iowa, Colonel Crooker; Ninth Illinois,
Colonel Mersy; Twelfth Illinois, Lieutenant-Colonel Chatlain, and
several other fragments of regiments, and forming them in line on
the road, held the enemy in check until that noble line was formed
that breasted that last desperate charge.
At this critical moment a long, loud shout from the Union forces
welcomed in the reinforcements. Eight thousand strong had at
length crossed the river, and swept down upon the battle-field. Buell
and Nelson, by forced marches, made within sound of the booming
thunders of artillery, reached the battle-field just as the fate of war
trembled in the balance. There was no pause for rest or council. So
eager were they for the strife, they scarcely paused for breath before
a line of battle was formed which decided that stormy day’s fight.
The men, weary from the long march, and panting from the speed
which had marked its last stages, ranged themselves in advance of
the exhausted, but unfaltering troops of Sherman, McClernand,
Hurlbut and of W. H. L. Wallace, who lay dying on the battle-field,
while Colonel Tuttle led his brigades to their noble work.
The gunboats Tyler, Lieutenant Gwinn commanding, and
Lexington, James W. Shirk commanding, now steamed up to the
mouth of the little creek, near which Stuart’s brigade had lain in the
morning, and where the rebels were attacking the Union left. When
they reached the mouth of the stream the boats rounded to,
commanding a ravine cut through the bluff, as if for the passage of
their shells, which poured destruction into the ranks of the enemy.
This movement was made under the direction of General Hurlbut,
and it soon swept the enemy’s ranks, carrying terror with every burst
of deadly iron the guns belched forth.
Eager to avenge the death of their commanding General (now
known to have been killed a couple of hours before), and to complete
the victory they believed to be within their grasp, the rebels had
incautiously ventured within reach of their most dreaded
antagonists, as broadside after broadside of seven-inch shells and
sixty-four-pound shot soon taught them. This was a foe they had
hardly counted on, and the unexpected fire in flank and rear
produced a startling effect. The boats fired admirably, and with a
rapidity that was astonishing. The twenty-two land guns kept up
their stormy thunder; and thus, amid the crash and roar, the scream
of shells and demon-like hiss of minie balls, that Sabbath evening
wore away.
Startled by the accumulated force, and disheartened by the fearful
combinations against them, the rebels fell slowly back, fighting as
they went, until they reached an advantageous position, somewhat in
the rear, yet occupying the main road to Corinth. The gunboats kept
pouring a storm of shell on their track, until they retired completely
out of reach, and the battle of the first day ended.
As the sounds of battle died away, and division generals drew off
their men, a council of war was held, and it was decided that as soon
as possible after daybreak the enemy should be attacked and driven
from their snug quarters in the Union camps. Lew. Wallace, who was
coming in on the new road from Crump’s Landing, and crossing
Snake Creek just above the Illinois Wallace’s (W. H. L.) camps, was
to take the right and sweep back toward the position from which
Sherman had been driven on Sunday morning. Nelson was to take
the extreme left. Buell promised to place Crittenden next to Nelson,
and McCook next to him, by a seasonable hour in the morning. The
gap between McCook and Lew. Wallace was to be filled with the
reorganized divisions of Grant’s army; Hurlbut coming next to
McCook, then McClernand, and Sherman closing the gap between
McClernand and Lew. Wallace.

BATTLE OF PITTSBURG LANDING, APRIL 6, 1862.

From the first fearful onslaught upon Buckland’s brigade, which,

gathering up its shattered regiments, and firing as they ran, to form
in the heavy woods, leaving winrows of slain on their track, to the
last outburst of shot and shell from the gunboats, the contest of that
day had been a fearful one. Most of the troops which received the
first shock of battle were raw recruits, just from the camp of
instruction. Hundred and hundreds of them had never seen a gun
fired save in sport in their lives. With officers equally inexperienced,
admitting brilliant exceptions, it is not wonderful that the ranks were
broken and driven back when the terrific roar of cannon burst in
their midst, and bombshells scattered fire and death among the
tents, in which they were quietly sleeping but an hour before.
Springing to arms, half prepared only to rush through the blinding
smoke to meet the serried columns of the rebels’ impetuous advance
—truly it is not strange that they fell into confusion, fighting blindly
and at random. But it was a grand sight when Sherman dashed along
the lines, shouting encouragement to the men, exposing his own life
a hundred times, and rallying his forces with a wonderful power of
voice and action. The herculean exertions of this brave man no doubt
saved the division from utter destruction.
From the first tranquil opening of that beautiful day to its lurid
and bloody close more desperate bravery has seldom been exhibited.
When Americans meet Americans, all that is heroic and daring in the
national character springs to action, and deeds are done on both
sides that thrill the nation as it stands breathlessly listening, North
and South, to know how her sons have fought.
 NIGHT BETWEEN THE TWO BATTLES.
In dead silence the troops took their new position, and lay down
on their arms in line of battle. All night long the remainder of Buell’s
men were marching up from Savannah to a point opposite Pittsburg
Landing, whence they were brought over in transports. An hour after
dark Wallace came in with his division. There had been delay in
getting the right road, which made him late on the field. But once
there he fell to work with energy. He ascertained the position of
certain rebel batteries which lay in front of him on the right, and
threatened to bar his advance in the morning, and selected positions
for a couple of his batteries from which they could silence the enemy.
In placing his guns and arranging his brigades for support, he was
occupied till one o’clock in the morning. His wearied men had lain
down to snatch a few hours of sleep, with the shadows of death all
around them.
At nine o’clock all was hushed near the landing. Men still panting
from the hot contest of the day, threw themselves on the earth to
sleep or die as they chanced to be unhurt or wounded unto death.
The bright stars looked down upon the ranks of sleeping, dying and
dead men, with sweet Sabbath-like calm, and never did the stars of
heaven brood over a spectacle more appalling. The sound of
marching troops from the far distance alone broke the solemn
stillness, save when the moans of the wounded, and the agonizing
cries for water thrilled the night with sounds of anguish. Now a flash
shed a flood of sheet-lightning over the river, turning its waters to
lurid fire, and the roar of heavy naval guns reverberated on the
bluffs, breaking up the sublime silence of the night. Again and again
the guns boomed great volumes of sound. By the flashes, the
gunboats could be seen receding back into the fiery blue of the
waters with each graceful recoil produced by the discharge. A thin
veil of smoke settled around them, floating drowsily between their
black hulls and the beautiful stars. Far away in the distant woods
came the muffled explosion of shells thus let loose on the tranquil
air.
 Thus the night wore on. The soldiers, far too weary for the boom of
cannon to awake them, slept quietly almost as the dead were
sleeping. The wounded answered back the dismal sound with more
dismal groans. At midnight a thunder storm broke over the battle
field, and the artillery of heaven swept its fires through the sky, while
the guns from the river boomed a sullen answer. Torrents of rain fell,
drenching the sleepers, but falling cool as balm on the parched lips of
the wounded, assuaging their burning thirst and moistening their
wounds.
The vigilant officers knew that half a mile off lay a victorious army,
commanded by splendid Generals, rendered ardent by a half-won
conquest which might be a victory on the morrow. For them there
was little rest. When the day broke it found these men watching.
When the brain is active men do not sleep, and the General who has
divisions to command and protect must earn success by vigilance.
 THE BATTLE ON MONDAY.
The line of battle agreed upon for the Union forces on Monday was
this:—Right wing, Major-General Lew. Wallace; left wing, Brigadier-
General Nelson. Between these, beginning at the left, Brigadier-
Generals T. Crittenden, A. McD. McCook, Hurlbut, McClernand and
W. T. Sherman. In the divisions of the three latter were to be
included also the remains of Prentiss’ and W. H. L. Wallace’s
commands—shattered and left without commanders, through the
capture of one, and the mortal wound of the other.
Buell’s three divisions were not full when the battle opened on
Monday morning, but the lacking regiments were gradually brought
into the rear. The different divisions were composed of the following
forces:
Brigadier-General Nelson’s Division.—First Brigade—Col.
Ammon, 24th Ohio, commanding; 36th Indiana, Col. Gross; 6th
Ohio, Lieut.-Col. Anderson; 24th Ohio, Lieut.-Col. Fred. C. Jones.
Second Brigade—Saunders D. Bruce, 20th Kentucky, commanding;
1st Kentucky, Col. Enyard; 2d Kentucky, Col. Sedgwick; 20th
Kentucky, Lieut.-Col. ——, commanding. Third Brigade—Col. Hazen,
41st Ohio, commanding; 41st Ohio, 6th Kentucky and 9th Indiana.
Brigadier-General T. Crittenden’s Division.—First Brigade—
Gen. Boyle; 19th Ohio, Col. Beatty; 59th Ohio, Col. Pfyffe; 13th
Kentucky, Col. Hobson; 9th Kentucky, Col. Grider. Second Brigade—
Col. Wm. S. Smith, 13th Ohio, commanding; 13th Ohio, Lieut.-Col.
Hawkins; 26th Kentucky, Lieut.-Col. Maxwell; 11th Kentucky, Col. P.
P. Hawkins; with Mendenhall’s regular and Bartlett’s Ohio batteries.
Brigadier-General McCook’s Division.—First Brigade—Brig.-
Gen. Lovell H. Rousseau; 1st Ohio, Col. Ed. A. Parrott; 6th Indiana,
Col. Crittenden; 3d Kentucky (Louisville Legion); battalions 15th,
16th and 19th regulars. Second Brigade—Brig.-Gen. Johnston; 32d
Indiana, Col. Willich; 39th Indiana, Col. Harrison; 49th Ohio, Col.
Gibson. Third Brigade—Colonel Kirk, 34th Illinois, commanding;
34th Illinois, Lieut.-Col. Badsworth; 29th Indiana, Lieut.-Col. Drum;
30th Indiana, Col. Bass; 77th Pennsylvania, Col. Stambaugh.
 Major-General Lew. Wallace’s Division—Right of Army.—
First Brigade—Col. Morgan L. Smith, commanding; 8th Missouri,
Col. Morgan L. Smith, Lieut.-Col. James Peckham, commanding;
11th Indiana, Col. George F. McGinnis; 24th Indiana, Col. Alvin P.
Hovey; Thurber’s Missouri battery. Second Brigade—Col. Thayer (1st
Nebraska) commanding; 1st Nebraska, Lieut.-Col. McCord,
commanding; 23d Indiana, Col. Sanderson; 58th Ohio, Col.
Bausenwein; 68th Ohio, Col. Steadman; Thompson’s Indiana
battery. Third Brigade—Col. Chas. Whittlesey (20th Ohio)
commanding; 20th Ohio, Lieut.-Col. —— commanding; 56th Ohio,
Col. Peter Kinney; 76th Ohio, Col. Chas. R. Woods; 78th Ohio, Col.
Leggett.
At daylight it became evident that the gunboat bombardment
through the night had not been without a most important effect. It
had changed the position of the rebel army. The sun had gone down
with the enemy’s lines encircling the Union forces closely on the
centre and left, pushing them to the river, and leaving them little
over half a mile of all the broad space they had held in the morning.
The gunboats had cut the coils and loosened the anaconda-like
constriction. Their shells had made the old position on the extreme
Union left, which the rebels had been occupying, utterly untenable.
Instead of stealing upon their foe in the night, which was doubtless
their intention, they were compelled to fall back from point to point
out of range of the shells which came dropping in; go where they
would within range, the troublesome visitors would find them out,
and they fell back beyond the inner Union camps, and thus lost more
than half the ground they had gained the afternoon before.
Less easily accounted for was a movement of theirs on the right.
Here they had held a steep bluff, covered with underbrush, as their
advanced line. Through the night they abandoned this, the best
possible position for opposing Lew. Wallace, and had fallen back
across some open fields to the scrub oak woods beyond.
To those who had looked despairingly at the prospects on Sunday
evening, it seemed unaccountable that the rebels did not open the
contest by daybreak. Their retreat before the bombshells of the
gunboats, however, explained the delay. The Union divisions were
put in motion almost simultaneously. By seven o’clock Lew. Wallace
opened the day by shelling the rebel battery, of which mention has
been made, from the positions he had selected the night before. A
brisk artillery duel was followed by a rapid movement of infantry
across a shallow ravine, as if to storm; and the rebels, enfiladed and
menaced in front, limbered up and made the opening of their
Monday’s retreating.
 NELSON’S ADVANCE.
Nelson, who was assigned the left wing, moved his division about
the same time Wallace opened on the rebel battery, forming in line of
battle, Ammon’s brigade on the extreme left, Bruce’s in the centre,
and Hazen’s to the right. Skirmishers were thrown out, and for
nearly a mile the division thus swept the country, pushing a few
outlying rebels before it, till it came upon them in force. Then a
general engagement broke out along the line, and again the rattle of
musketry and thunder of artillery echoed over the late silent fields.
There was no straggling this morning. These men were well drilled,
and strict measures were taken to prevent miscellaneous thronging
back out of harm’s way. They stood up to their work and did their
duty manfully.
It soon became evident that, whether from change of commanders
or some other cause, the rebels were pursuing a new policy in
massing their forces. On Sunday the heaviest fighting had been done
on the left. In the morning they seemed to make a less determined
resistance here, while toward the centre and right the ground was
more obstinately contested, and the struggle fiercely prolonged.
Until half-past ten o’clock Nelson advanced slowly but steadily,
sweeping his long lines over the ground of defeat on Sunday
morning, moving over scores of dead rebels, and resistlessly pressing
back the jaded and wearied enemy. The rebels had received but few
reinforcements during the night. Their men were exhausted with the
desperate contest of the day before, and manifestly dispirited by the
fact that they were fighting Grant and Buell combined.
Gradually, as Nelson pushed forward his lines under heavy
musketry, the enemy fell back, till about half-past ten, when, under
cover of the heavy timber and a furious cannonading, they made a
general rally. The Union forces, flushed with their easy success, were
scarcely prepared for the sudden onset, when the rebel masses were
hurled against them with tremendous force. The men halted,
wavered, and were driven back. At this critical juncture Captain
Terry’s regular battery came dashing up. Scarcely taking time to
unlimber, he was loading and sighting his pieces before the caissons
had turned, and in an instant was tossing in shell from twenty-four-
pound howitzers in to the compact and advancing rebel ranks.
Here was the turning point of the battle on the left. The rebels
were checked, not halted. On they came. Horse after horse from the
batteries was picked off. Every private at one of the howitzers was
shot down, and the gun was worked by Captain Terry himself and a
corporal. A regiment dashed up from the Union line, and saved the
disabled piece. Then for two hours artillery and musketry raged at
close range. At last the enemy began to waver. The Federals pressed
on, pouring in deadly volleys. Just then Buell, who assumed the
general direction of his troops in the field, came up. At a glance he
saw the position of things, and gave a prompt order. “Forward at
double-quick by brigades.” The men leaped forward with the
eagerness of unleashed hounds. For a quarter of a mile the rebels fell
back. Faster and faster they ran; less and less resistance was made to
the advance. At last the front camps on the left were reached, and by
half-past two that point was cleared. The rebels had been steadily
swept back over the ground they had won, with heavy loss, and fell
into confusion. The Unionists had retaken all their own guns lost
here the day before, and one or two from the rebels were left to attest
how bravely that great victory in Tennessee was won.
 ADVANCE OF CRITTENDEN’S DIVISION.
Next to Nelson came Crittenden. He, too, swept forward over his
ground to the front some distance before finding the foe. Between
eight and nine o’clock, however, while keeping Smith’s brigade on his
left even with Nelson’s flank, and joining Boyle’s brigade to McCook
on the right, in the grand advance, he came upon the enemy with a
battery in position, and, well supported, Smith dashed his brigade
forward. There was sharp, close work with musketry, and the rebels
fled. He took three pieces—a twelve-pound howitzer and two brass
six-pounders. But they cost the gallant Thirteenth Ohio dear. Major
Ben. Piatt Runkle fell, mortally wounded.
For half an hour, perhaps, the storm raged around these captured
guns. Then came the recoiling rebel wave that had hurled Nelson
back. Crittenden, too, caught its full force. The rebels swept up to the
batteries—around them, and down after the retreating Union
column. But the two brigades, like those of Nelson’s to their left, took
a fresh position, faced the foe, and held their ground. Mendenhall’s
and Bartlett’s batteries now began shelling the infantry that alone
opposed them. Before abandoning the guns so briefly held, they had
spiked them with mud, and this novel expedient was perfectly
successful. From that time till after one o’clock, while the fight raged
back and forth over the same ground, the rebels did not succeed in
firing a shot from their mud-spiked artillery.
At last the Union brigades began to gain the advantage. Crittenden
drove the enemy steadily forward. Captain Mendenhall, with First-
Lieutenant Parsons, a Western Reserve West Pointer, with Bartlett,
poured in their shell. A rush for the contested battery, and it was
taken again. The rebels retreated towards the left. Smith and Boyle
holding the infantry well in hand, Mendenhall again got their range
and poured in shell on the new position. The fortune of the day was
against them, as against their comrades in Nelson’s front, and they
were soon in full retreat.
Just then Brigadier-General Thomas J. Woods’ advance brigade
from his approaching division came up. It was too late for the fight,
but it relieved Crittenden’s weary fellows, and pushed on after the
rebels until they were found to have left the most advanced Union
camps.
 M’COOK’S ADVANCE.
Thus the left was saved. Meanwhile McCook, with his magnificent
regiments, was doing equally well toward the centre. His division
was handled in a way to save great effusion of blood, while equally
important results were attained. The reserves were kept as much as
possible from under fire, while the troops in front were engaged.
Thus the lists of killed and wounded will show that while as heavy
fighting was done here as any where on the right or centre, the
casualties were remarkably few.
An Illinois battery, serving in the division, was in imminent
danger. The Sixth Indiana was ordered to its relief. A rapid rush,
close musketry firing—no need of bayonets here—the battery was
safe. The enemy were to the front and right. Advancing and firing the
Sixth pushed on. The rebel colors dropped. Another volley; yet once
more the fated colors fell. Was there fatality in this? The rebels
seemed to think so, for they wheeled and disappeared.
Rousseau’s brigade was drawn off in splendid style. The rebel
General saw the brigade filing back, and pushed his forces onward
again. Kirk’s brigade advanced to meet him, coming out of the woods
into an open field. It was met by a tremendous fire, which threw a
battalion of regulars in its front into some confusion. They retired to
reform, and meanwhile down dropped the brigade on the ground. As
the front was cleared the men sprang up and charged across the open
field, straight to the woods, under cover, driving the enemy back with
their impetuous advance. He rallied promptly. Fierce musketry firing
swept the woods. They advanced thirty rods, perhaps, when the
Twenty-ninth Indiana got into a marsh and fell partially to the rear.
Heavier came the leaden hail. The Twenty-ninth and Thirtieth both
fell back fifteen or twenty rods; they rallied and advanced again.
They were repulsed, started impetuously forward, and this time came
in on the vulnerable points. Colonel Waggoner’s Fifteenth Indiana
came up to the support and the enemy disappeared. Fresh troops
took their places, and for them the fight ended.
 Beginning at the left the waves of success swept forward from
point to point over the lost fields of Sunday. Pæans of victory, and
the wild cheers of successful soldiers sounded the requiem of the
fallen rebels, who had atoned for their treason by the brave man’s
death. Nelson, Crittenden, McCook, Hurlbut, McClernand, led their
divisions bravely through the fray. The contest lasted longer on the
right, and was even more fiercely contested.
 LEW. WALLACE’S MOVEMENTS.
When Major-General Lew. Wallace opened the battle at seven
o’clock by shelling with enfilading fires a rebel battery, a few shots
demonstrated to the rebels that their position was untenable. The
instant Sherman came in to protect his left, Wallace advanced his
infantry. The rebel battery at once limbered up and got out of the
way. The advance had withdrawn the division from Sherman,
making a left half wheel, to get back into the neighborhood of the
Federal line; they advanced some two hundred yards, which brought
them to a little elevation, with a broad open stretch to the front. As
the division halted on the crest of the swell, through the edge of the
timber, skirting the fields, the head of a rebel column appeared,
marching past in splendid style on the double-quick. Banner after
banner flashed out through the foliage; the “Stars and Bars” forming
a long line, stretching parallel with Wallace’s line of battle. Regiment
after regiment swept forward, the line lengthened, and doubled and
trebled; the head of the column was out of sight and still they came.
Twenty regiments were counted passing through the woods. Their
design was plain. The rebels had abandoned the idea of forcing their
way through the Union left, and the manifest attempt was to turn the
right.
Thompson’s and Thurber’s batteries were now ordered up, and the
whole column was shelled as it passed. The rebels threw their
artillery into position rapidly, and a brisk cannonading began. After a
time, while the fight still rested with the artillery, the rebels opened a
new and destructive battery to the right, which the Union men soon
ascertained was “Watson’s Louisiana battery,” from the marks on the
ammunition boxes the enemy were forced from time to time to leave
behind.
Batteries, with a brigade of supporting infantry, were now moved
forward over open fields, under heavy fire, to contend against this
new assailant. The batteries opened, the sharpshooters were thrown
out to the front to pick off the rebel artillerists, and the brigade was
ordered down on its face to protect it from the flying shell and grape.
For an hour and a half the contest lasted, while the body of the
division was still delayed, waiting for Sherman.
 SHERMAN’S DIVISION.
Sherman had received orders from Grant to advance and recapture
his camps. His division was composed of odds and ends, as it came
out of the conflict on Sunday evening.
His command was of a mixed character. Buckland’s brigade was
the only one that retained its organization. Colonel Hildebrand was
personally there, but his brigade was not. Colonel McDowell had
been severely injured by a fall of his horse, had gone to the river, and
the regiments of his brigade were not in line. The Thirteenth
Missouri, Colonel Crafts J. Wright, had reported itself on the field,
and fought well, retaining its regimental organization, and it formed
a part of Sherman’s line during Sunday night and all Monday. Other
fragments of regiments and companies had also fallen into his
division, and acted with it during the remainder of the battle.
This was not a very promising host with which to “advance and
recapture his camps.” Sherman, full of ardor, moved forward and
reoccupied the ground on the extreme right of General McClernand’s
camp, where he attracted the fire of a battery located near Colonel
McDowell’s headquarters. Here he remained, patiently awaiting the
sound of General Buell’s advance upon the main Corinth road. It was
this independent action of Sherman which caused Wallace to halt—
he evidently not understanding that General’s design.
By ten o’clock Sherman’s right, under Colonel Marsh, came up. He
started to move across the field, but the storm of musketry and grape
was too much for him, and he fell back in good order. Again he
started on the double-quick and gained the woods. The Louisiana
battery was turned; Marsh’s position left it subject to fire in flank and
in front, and it then fled. The other rebel batteries at once followed,
and Wallace’s division, in an instant, now that a master move had
swept the board, pushed forward. Before them were broad fallow
fields, then a woody little ravine, succeeded by cornfields and woods.
The left brigade was sent forward. It crossed the fallow fields,
under fire, gained the ravine, and was rushing across the cornfields,
when the same Louisiana steel rifled guns opened on them. Dashing